Flight Of The Vulture
by Jonas Grant
Summary: Talon Company is one of the most powerful yet misunderstood faction of the Capital Wasteland, which leaves a whole lot of room for fan fiction on them. Here's my attempt. Formerly called Rise of the Talon. (One of those stories that makes a writer want to whack himself with a wrench for writing...)
1. The Awakening

First thing I know when I wake up is that someone is trying to take my trench knife from its sheath, so I put my Chinese pistol on his/her head and press the trigger, not even looking.

"Holy fuck!" Someone yells as a body fall on the dirt. "You shot the sarge!"

I open my eyes, wondering where the fuck I am anyway.

The capitol building, east entrance, C trench…

"shit…" I grumble, realizing what I just did.

I grew up in the wasteland and out there, things are very simple:

Someone tries to steal your stuff, you kill him, someone tries to rape you, you kill him, someone tries to kill you, you rape him, steal his stuff and then kill him…

That's how I always led my life, and it got me where I am now; Corporal in the Talon Company Mercs…

"Carp, go get the LT!"

…Scratch that; it led me where I was two seconds ago.

I shoot Carp at the base of his skull as he tries to go get the lieutenant…

"Holy…" There's only one more guy in my trench, another Corporal.

One slash of my knife later, I'm alone in the trench.

"What a fucking promising morning." I grumble, picking up the guys' ammo and gear.

They don't have much; ten caps, a laser pistol, a frag grenade and a few R-90 parts I can use for my BR-14 battle rifle…

"What the fuck happened here?" Someone yells.

I look up from the sarge's corpse and see another sergeant looking at me.

"They shot each others..." I lie.

The sergeant give me a suspicious look before nodding. After reflection, he doesn't care.

"Whatever, we're launching another attack, get on your feet and get moving!"

"Yes, sir!" well, that was easy…

I grab my pack and follow the officer as he goes around the trenches and gather everyone. Thirty two mens, five protectrons ant two Gutsys.

Finally, he brings the small task force in front of the command bunker.

Lieutenant Calico's waiting for us there, standing on a metal crate…

God I hope she's not gonna give us another of her speec…

"Alright, soldiers," …Fuck… " I'll be brief; this is our last chance, we either take that building or we die here.  
We won't get an EVAC, so forget about retreat! The tin heads in the Washington monument are about to hit us hard and we won't survive a direct fight with them, so we need to entrench ourselves in the Capitol and hold there, but, as you all know, the place's full of muties, so, simply put, we kill every last one of the suckers… Is that understood?" She yells like she was some sort of general.

The guys mutter a couple of "Yeah…" and "Yes, sir." That clearly indicate they're all going to die as soon as the bullets start flying… This is bad, they need some serious kick in the ass…

I grab an ammo box and climb on it.

"Alright, wannabes! I don't know what the fuck you ate this morning, but that won't do at all! I'm not gonna storm that building with a bunch of retarded zombies, so you either nut up and act like soldiers or I'll be worst than the muties and the tin heads together!

We're not a bunch of raiders or Wasters trying to survive a super mutant attack; we're Talons, we're badass sons of bitches! And for fuck's sake I'll make sure those suckers get that right if it kills me! Now, I'm gonna take that building so we can have a nice shot when the Tin heads arrive, you guys can tag along if you want, but if you're just gonna get killed, I won't bother dragging your sorry ass all the way there, so grow a pair, gear up and go get some medals!" I bark at the soldiers before jumping from my crate and pulling the bolt of my assault rifle.

It was already loaded, but it sure makes one hell of an effect of the guys…

"Ou-rah!"

"Fuck yeah CP!"

"Oh man, time to kick ass! Ou-rah!"

I pass by Calico and she nods at me.

"You got a way with words, what's your name, soldier?" She asks.

"Corporal Jared Cole, second close assault division, Epsilon squad!" I finish my sentence with a sharp nod.

I don't salute her; you don't salute officers on the battlefield, tends to ease the snipers' job…

She gives me a shark's smile and pats my shoulder pad.

"Well, Corporal, as soon as we're back at fort Bannister, I'll make sure you get an assignment that suits your skills better…"

I take a second to realize she's offering me a promotion…

"Thanks' ma'am…"

"Now these guys won't attack that building if you don't show them the way, so get to it, soldier and don't you get killed!"

I nod and turn to the assembled soldiers.

They're all looking at me with anticipation.

"Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? A fuckin' invitation? Let's roll!" I yell before sprinting toward the entrenched mutants.

-

-

I fire my Battle rifle in the Overlord's gut at point blank, but it barely feels it.

"I need some heavy rain here!" I yell over my shoulder.

I turn to the mutant just in time to dodge its super-sledge.

"I'll eat you ar…" I punch it in the face with my knife's spiked knuckles and jump back again.

Someone tells me to get down and I do, watching as a missile slams in the mutant's chest.

"Fuck yeah, soldier, I like your style!" I yell, smiling.

It's the lieutenant.

"Thanks, soldier…" She grunt, helping me back to my feet.

I address her a short nod before rushing up the building's stairs. There's two miniguns up there that need to stop shooting…

But as soon as I start climbing bullets begin to rain on my position and I must dive in a crater to avoid being thorn to shreds. What a weird place for a damn crater…

"I need sniper fire on theses minis!" I yell, not even sure anyone can hear me…

A super mutant pokes his head just over me and I burn a hole in his forehead with my laser.

A second later I hear a sniper rifle's bark and smile.

Now I just need to get out of the hole…

The crater is pretty deep and steep, no way I can just climp out...

"Need a hand, corp?" I hear someone ask from above.

There's a pale looking TC kneeling near the crater, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes…

I nod and he extends his arm.

I need to jump to grab his hand, but after the second try, he manage to get a good hold and pull me all the way like I'm a damn child.

"Thanks bud." I grunt, shouldering my rifle.

"No problem, corp." He answers picking up his Sniper Rifle.

I resume climbing the stairs, both super mutants now dead, one from laser burn and the other from having being beheaded by a .308 bullet.

"Someone pick up their weapons, we'll need the firepower!" I yell over my shoulder.

Two grunts do as I say and things suddenly get much better for us; the super mutants, now only equipped with .32 rifles, easily get cut down by the hail of bullets unleashed by the machine guns and the riflemans, giving us a clear run to the Capitol's entrance.

"Come on, move in and secure the building!" The lieutenant orders.

I nod and tell the two gunners to follow me...


	2. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

"Fucking medic!" I yell after the initial shock has passed.

As soon as the door opened an ugly started shooting at me with a Chinese Assault rifle, first bullet caught my shoulder pad and bounced off, second one went all the way trough my rifle and lodged itself in my right arm and the last one got stuck in my breast plate throwing me against the wall.

Of course, if I want to get a medic, I need to smoke that fucker…

Lets see, broken Battle rifle, Chinese pistol, laser pistol, frag… Oh…

"Yo, dick head! Catch!"

He does as asked and catches the explosive in mid air, apparently thinking I was just throwing him a piece of rubble or something.

*Boom!*

Even dead, the mutie has that "What the fuck?" look on his face.

I'm still laughing my ass off when the Medic finally gets to me, five minutes later.  
The two mini-gunners already cleared most of the building when the rest of the boys just finished mopping up the forces outside.

They celebrate for exactly ten seconds before I yell to get their asses inside before I'm dragging them in myself.

Then, the Medic injects me with enough Med-X to buzz a Behemoth and everything goes black with weird pink spots.

-

-

When the Molerats stop dancing and their pet Deathclaw begins chasing them I decide it's pretty much time for me to stop tripping and wake up.

I only open one eye and wish I was still tripping.

Wha-!

"Good day, Captain, slept well?"

The Metal Armor-clad man asks from the other side of the room.

"No; dreamed of Molerats, I hate Molerats. What can I do for you, Commander?"

"Do for me?" He laughs, "Son, I am here to talk about what *I* could do for *You*, you have any idea what you did back there?"

Saved my butt, stormed a building, got shot, passed out… What's so fucking glorious about that?

Woops, did I say that out loud?

The commander laughs and slaps my injured arm playfully.

Prick.

"Look, son, you're skilled when it comes to leading troops and I'm cruelly short on good officers right now, which is why I'm putting a whole fucking battalion under your command, their last captain got smoked by a Ranger. Don't worry, your mission orders are simple; hold this place, set up a real operational base, scout the different museums for any kind of historical artifacts and documents and set up a recruitment and trading post in Underworld. Questions?"

A fuck-load of them, but only two of them are relevant:

"Why we scaving museums?"

"You'll see; our customer is sending us a group of specialist around next week to sort trough the crap, I think they're rogue Tin heads or something, whatever, their money's good."

Any money's good. Next question:

"Are you sure it's a good idea to promote a guy from Corporal to Captain?"

"No, but you already seem much more experienced than most of my command crew, so; screw it."

With that, he tosses me a duffel bag and smiles.

"Got the gun from a friend of mine in Pittsburg, costs more that a full suit of combat armor…"  
As he talks, I pull out an R-80 Infiltrator 5.56mm Carbine with silencer, scope and foldable stock and grip.

I unfold the grip, aim the gun at the wall, unfold the stock, shoulder the gun, put it down, insert a full clip and refold everything before Jabsco finishes his next sentence.

"…I see you're a man of taste, that's good, this baby will get you out of more than one tight spot, there's a few spare parts in the bag and your officer helmet. My own way of saying 'keep up the god work.'"

And, without another word, Vincent Jabsco, Commander of the Talon Company, leaves what I suppose will be my office from now on.

I poke my head in the corridor, filled with tired looking Talons.

"Somebody make some god damned coffee… And turn down that fucking music. And tell Calico to drag her ass here!"

Two of them look at each others, apparently unsure.

I throw my canteen in the closer one's face, narrowly missing.

"Now, soldiers!"

"Wow, fuck, okay!"

I'm gonna have to do something about that lack of discipline.

A minute later, the Lieutenant is standing in the doorstep while I'm sitting on the dirty mattress laid on the floor, the only actual furniture of the room, excluding large pieces of rubbles.  
I wonder how the building is still standing, having lost so much structural integrity…

"Corp… Wait… Is this a Captain tag… Shit… That's why Jabsco was here, isn't it?"

I nod. "Bingo. Sit-rep?"

She leans on the wall and starts explaining what I missed.

First off, I have been unconscious for two days, so I missed the Brotherhood assault, resulting in half the Task Force being killed or wounded, but, on the up side, we captured the BoS strike team, Lyon's Pride or something, and they keep telling their interrogator they are exiles, now working as mercs with Reilly's Rangers. Not knowing what to do with them, the boys just found a room without window and stuffed them in it. They then spent the rest of the day looting the corpses for gear.

Shortly after that, Jabsco showed up with two hundreds and twenty six mercs, none above the rank of sergeant. He also had a full mechanized unit dispatched under my command, that's twenty Protectrons, ten Gutsies, five Brainbots and two Sentry-bots.

"God damnit,"I snap, not caring to hide my irritation at the commander's questionable strategy "Why the fuck is he sending us all this? That's, like, more than two thirds of all the Company!"

Calico massages her eyes and sit on the floor, hugging her knees in a distressed way.

"I don't know, Captain, but I have a very bad feeling about it.

Yeah, me too.

"Look, whatever it is that's going on around here…" I stop one second to lace up my boots. "…we need to be ready, have the boys run some drills in the concourse, set up an obstacle course or something, one squad at a time, the rest should either be resting, working on the fortification or looting, we'll put the robots on watch."

She's so gone inside her own head she realizes I'm standing next to her only when I put my hand on her arm to pull her to her feet.

"I'm not formed to lead troops like that, Calico, I need your help."

She blinks a couple of times and nod.

"Alright, I'll get this base into shape, captain, you can count on me."

-

I grab a soldier and shove him on his feet.

"Where are the prisoners?"

"I… Uh…"

"Now, soldier!"

"Third room on your right, got Murph and Slim watching it, can't miss it."

As I walk to the room, I distribute some instructions over the radio.

"I want two recon team ready to leave in an hour; I need someone to go to Bannister, something's off..."

I reach the room and slap the highest ranked guard's shoulder pad.

"Sergeant, grab two volunteers and make your way to Underworld, talk to a ghoul called Tulip, she said something about crates of low quality R-91, N99 and Combat Knives last time I went there, I want them, offer her a few Mini-nukes in exchange, then go see a guy named Winthrop and ask him to perform basic maintenance on the weapons, tell him I'll give him the pieces he need to fix the vents, finally go talk to that weapon dealer, Sydney, tell her I need a new quartermaster, offer her the standard contractor fee."

He nod and leaves without a sound.

The door squeaks like a wounded Molerat.

Hell, why are they all wearing a fucking military pajama?

Three of them chuckle at that comment and a blonde woman steps up from an almost clean spot on the floor.

"I am Sentinel Sarah Lyons," She claims in a strong voice, standing barely ten centimeters away from my face, "I demand to speak with whoever's in charge."

"Heh, making demands, eh? That's kinda cute."

I dodge the right hook she throws at my face and block her knee a second before it slams in my crotch.

Jesus H. Christ, that girl's nuts!

"Fuck, Sentinel, can't you take a god damned joke?"

Her icy glare damn near makes me shit my pants.

"No. Now; Who. Is. In. Charge. Here."

She recites the last part like I was some retarded child. Fucking tin heads think they're so much better than everyone.

"I am," I admit, extending my hand, "Captain Cole at your service."

She looks at me like I just told her I had five balls.

When she finally decides I'm not joking, we begin the negotiations.

"So, you're exiles?"

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"No."

"Why did you attack us?"

"We were hired to."

"By who?"

She simply glares.

"Nevermind. I'll tell the boys to give you your gear back, you're free to go, I have better things to do."

She nod slowly.

"Can I ask you a few questions too?"

"Sure, make it quick."

"What's going on exactly?"

I wish I knew.

"Something's wrong with HQ, they sent every grunt available here and most high ranked officers stayed behind. Strange coincidence that we started raiding Aqua Pura caravans just last week.  
I think they're using us to cover their escape, so, if it's true, I'm going to order my men out of the Capital Wastes."

Wow, that actually makes some sense, now that I think of it; promote a random grunt that did something flashy, make the kids think everything is fine, sneak out while they get butchered, enjoy all the caps you made while working for some rich megalomaniac.

Note to self, kill Adrian Burke and Allastair Tenpenny before leaving DC.

The look she gives me is even scarier than her glare.

"I think you and I have a lot in common." She whispers softly, pausing a second before continuing. "Perhaps we could work together, after all."

"Perhaps…"

-

-

Conference room… I never thought I'd be standing in a place like this with two hundred peoples staring at me.

I look around the crowded room. The troops are not very happy about my decision to give back their gear to the Pride, now standing right behind me on the stage, but they know I'm about to explain the situation, so, apart from the occasional whining, they are all pretty calm.

"This is the Lyon's Pride, your new instructors, every squad will be required to train at least six hours a day with one of them and most of the complex will be dedicated to this training, squad leaders will be deciding what kind of training their squad should focus on and let lieutenant Calico know their new specialization. Now I warn you, I don't want a squad full of heavy gunners, but heavy assault units, Recon specialists, defense and fortification GENIE squads, you get the idea. You'll be responsible for finding yourself a specialization, so think of something that fits your boys' skill set."

I nod toward Sentinel Lyons.

"Sentinel Lyons will teach basic and advanced combat maneuvers, strategy and doctrines; stick with her and you just might be made officer."

I turn to the next guy, an old vet with dark eyes. "Paladin Vargas will take care of physical training; a good soldier needs to stay sharp. No, that's not an option; you are required to train with him at least once a week. On the up side, he'll also teach everyone how to wear Power Armors…"

Holy fuck, now I feel like the fucking messiah; some of the boys are standing to applaud, others are plain jumping on their chair and the rest is simply cheering.

Vargas scowls… Or grins, I'm really not sure.

After my third attempt to calm them the fuck down, I give up and simply cross my arms, waiting for the excitement to pass.

Takes five minutes, but they finally let me continue.

"Knight Captain Gallows will be teaching basic and advanced Special operation techniques; intel gathering, recon, assassination, you name it. I don't expect all of you to become super spies or shit, but I do hope you'll all be able to perform basic recon when asked."

No bitching at that, but no cheers either, so I guess the boys are just curious.

"Knight Captains Colvin and Dusk will both be covering Marksmanship. Why two instructors? Because you all shoot like a fucking blind quadriplegic!"

They all laugh. I wish it was a joke.

"Paladin Glade is going to show you a few magic tricks, like how to turn a Super Mutant into a pile of smoking guts, be it using explosives or heavy weapons… Try not to have too much fun, people, please."

"Finally, Kodiak will take care of basic training and, same as Vargas, you'll all have to go see him once a week… Now stop bitching and get moving! I'll get you guys combat ready if it kills me!"


	3. I'm Not Retreating

It's my third week as the Company's captain.  
Can't say I'm getting the hang of it, but I kept us in one piece trough two Enclave assault and a constant Brotherhood siege, so I can't be half that bad.  
The troops are getting tougher every day; the Pride's constant training is starting to show and we now have thirty squads all specialized in a form of warfare.  
We already had a similar system under Jabsco, but it was far from being as pronounced as it is now; before, it just affected what gear you were given, now, it's your whole training and future assignments that depend on it.

More importantly, we managed to salvage some suits of Power Armor, two Tesla armors and six Advanced MkII for our own use. The Outcasts, our new employers, aren't very happy about it, but then again, what are they ever happy about? At least we are holding our end of the contract, despite not technically being the ones who signed it.

"…are you even listening to me?" Defender Anne-Marie Morgan yells, from the other side of my wooden desk.

"Nope."

The power armored woman growls dangerously, looking about to leap from her chair to strangle the life out of me.

"C'mon, Anny, you DO NOT want to give me another go, do you?"

First time we met, she aimed a gun at Lyon's face, so I pulse-grenaded her metal ass into submission.

Took her two hours to get out of the disabled Power Armor. She didn't try to fuck with us afterward and we had her suit fixed by Winthrop.

"You're an asshole, you know that?"

Doesn't keep her from insulting us any chance she gets.

"Fuck you, bitch."

"Retard…"

"Pompous shit…"

"Psychotic brain dead asshole…"

"Robot-loving, trash can-wearing nerdy-girl…"

"…I… You…"

"Thirty years old virgin…"

"How dare you!"

Woops.

"What? We were done already? Sorry, I got carried away. What were we saying?"

Heheh, I know; I shouldn't be having so much fun.

"Hellfire Armor!" I damn near fall of my chair when she slams her fist on the desk. "You looted some previously unseen armor model from an Enclave commander, we want access to it!"

What? That old crap? I thought it was *less* advanced than the Mk II!

"What's it worth to you?"

Gotta be careful when you sell an item that could either be crappy junk or twenty carat junk. Not sure I'm selling either.

"A hundred caps…"

"Goodbye, Defender."

She seems panicked.

"No! Wait, I'll talk to Casdin about it, I might be authorized to give you some gear in exchange, just don't touch the suit… Actually, lock it up somewhere, okay?"

Yeah, that's a problem; I don't have anyone who knows how to perform routine maintenance on the things… Perhaps I could get the Outcasts to lend us one of their specialists, but that would take a lot of tact…

I nod slowly.

"Fine, actually, you know what? I trust you enough to let you start studying on it right away… " I nod toward a pile of crates against the wall, where the boys put all the stuff that's too weird for their liking. "It's in the top one. Have fun."

She gives me a suspicious look.

"Just like that? Where's the trap?"

Couldn't just say 'thanks', could she?

"I said you could study it, and, eventually, if the price is right, buy it, but I want to be informed of any discoveries you make."

"Like you could understand how one of those things work." She scoffs.

"Oh, but I do, it's an exotic model, but I suppose it is the same as a T-51b: The armor is fitted with a back-mounted MicroFusion Pack which generates an output power of 60,000 Watts to power the hydraulic systems built into the frame of the suit. Made of a poly-laminate composite, the outer shell of the T-51b is lightweight and capable of absorbing over 25,000 Joules of kinetic impact. The 10-micron-thick silver ablative coating can reflect laser and other radiation emissions without damage to the composite subsurface."

She blinks repeatedly before finally talking:

"Where did you learn that?"

I turn my terminal toward her.

"Some friend of mine gave me access to the Citadel's database."

From the look in her eyes, I just gained another bargaining chip.

She looks me up and down, apparently thinking she missed something the first time.

Still, her question surprises me:

"Who are you exactly?"

Amnesia much, anyone?

"Jeez, girl, did you overload your brain or something? I'm Captain Ja…"

"It's not what I meant; where are you from? You can't just be some dumbass waster…"

Okay, that bitch asked for it.

"As a matter of fact, Defender Morgan, I AM a dumbass waster; my ancestors couldn't find their way into a vault or any other kind of shelter, so they hid in a stadium, along with thousands of others.  
My family was out there, fighting for its life, from the very beginning, digging the ground with their bare hands to find still warm remains of the old world, fighting other families who wanted the same thing, killing peoples, sometimes resorting to cannibalism to survive.  
Your disdain for Wastlanders is ill placed, Defender, we've survived in the outside for two hundred years, whatever strength our genes do not give us, we acquire trough working our asses off just to get the basics, we don't have your fancy power armors, high-tech weapons or advanced training, yet we survive out here, because we are all mean motherfuckers, Talons just happen to be organized mean motherfuckers. Now get the fuck out of my office."

She leaves the room, her suit's hydraulics whining under the weight of the crate.

Damn those tin heads, even Lyon's Pride is acting all pompous with us, telling us how wrong everything we do is. So fucking easy to say when you grew up with power armored badasses to protect you…

There's someone else in the room.

Calico damn near gets an hearth attack when I aim my AER-7 pistol at her face.

"Lieutenant! Fuckin' knock, it's for your safety!" I snap.

She smiles weakly. I holster my gun.

"Recon teams reported back."

About time! Three weeks to make a ten hours trip, what the fuck!

"What happened?" I ask; bitching won't change it.

The look on her face still haven't changed from when I was aiming my gun at her, so something else must be scaring our good lieutenant.

"Brotherhood set up checkpoints in the whole ruins, no way for our boys to get back in radio range… Until…"

Is that a machine gun?

"What's that sound, lieutenant?" I cut her off.

She stares at her feet.

"That's two Enclave Vertibirds headed our way…"

Another attack? For a defeated faction, those fascist assholes sure look lively.

"…Our boys negotiated a truce with them- In a way."

What the fuck does that mean? Shouldn't they ask me permission before striking deals like that?

"What were the terms?"

"Something like: We feed them and give them a place to rest and they work for us."

Too good to be true, those Enclave assholes are worst than the Brotherhood, they'd never take orders from me.

Well, the end justify the means, we're the only group out there who's getting close to be as hated as the Enclave, but we still have a base and plenty of resource. Them, they just spent the last three years scraping by and running from the BoS.

Oh well, having access to Vertibirds might give us an edge in future contracts, fast deployment, air support, all that shit.

"So, what's the word on Bannister, LT?"

The look on her face says it all. We're just a bunch of over-equipped sacrificial lambs

-

-

"…This means that, very soon, we are going to be attacked by every single asshole we ever pissed off…" An anxious buzzing fills the room. "…The only thing to do is to leave before the shit hits the fan.  
The BoS has started a similar campaign against the Enclave and the Outcasts, so, my enemy's enemy being my friend, both group will be tagging along; the Outcasts are simply allies and the Enclave's now part of the company, first airborne, to be precise. Questions?"

Someone asks what were going to do, if we're still mercs.

"Of fucking course we're still Mercs, bro, although I think we'll have to change our politic a bit."

"Where are we going anyway?"

Sarah. She's right, I have no clue as to where we should go. I suppose we could find a more populated area and set up shop there…

"West, I heard there is some fucking civilization there. Q and A's over, kids!" I announce when I notice the Enclave boys walk in with Sydney and a couple of Outcasts.  
"Everyone follow the quartermaster, she'll make sure we don't leave too much gear behind, but you'll all have to carry some extra stuff, especially if you're wearing Power armor. That's it Talon; Ou-rah!"

The response is immediate.

"Ou-rah!"

The troops quickly fill out of the room, leaving me alone with an Outcast Protector, an Enclave Lieutenant, Calico and Lyons.

The lieutenant speaks first.

"How exactly do you plan on going all the way to the west coast?"

Yeah, I was just thinking that.

Let's see… Boat?  
I don't think that's even possible.  
Walk?  
And have the Brotherhood's Vertibirds shelling us all the way? Nope.  
We could fly… But where can I find a plane large enough to bring everyone? Vertibirds are nice, but I can't seen one of those carry three-hundred soldiers and four artillery guns…  
Wait… Who said we needed a plane?  
Fucking bingo.

"We'll go to RFK stadium; there was some sort of exposition there the day the bombs fell."

"Exposition about what? Cars?" Calico scoffs.

"Thermal Airships and other shits like that."

"How comes you know all that stuff, and I don't?" Sarah cuts in "This is pretty scary."

I simply smile and rush behind my soldiers.

"Is he always like that?" I hear the Enclave boy ask the girls.

Both women answer pretty much the same thing; they didn't even know my name until just recently.

-

-

"COME ON! MOVE FUCKING FORWARD!" I scream at the top of my lung, trying to be heard over all the gun shots, explosions and Vertibirds rotor.

"Enemy south-west, second floor!" I don't recognize the voice, but he's right.

I aim my gun at the tin head in the window and fire a burst in his helmet before diving behind a smoking car.  
Laser shots start raining on me.

"Use. Of. Lethal . Force. Authori…" A Protectron spurts, walking past my position, firing its lasers.

"Watch out RPG! South-east, behind that car!"

"Frag' em, troopers!" I yell back.

I catch a glimpse of gray from the corner of my eye and roll away.

About fucking time too, there's now a super sledge buried deep in the spot I was standing on.

The Knight roars in anger as I fire a full clip in his guts at point blank.

Enough bullets get trough and he falls on the floor, groaning.

I draw my pistol and take out an Initiate that didn't quite understand the principle of coverage.

"Captain, they fortified the building at the end of the street!"

"I got it!"

Opening a radio channel with the Enclave LT, I start hollering target specs.

"…hundred meters from my position, heavily fortified, one pass, fire until expended. And watch your six, lots of AA in the area!"

A woman's voice, with that 'I'm sooo cool' tone pilots all seem to get, answers me right away.

"Wilco, changing vector… Target in sight; making a pass."

The two V-22s scream over me, but I don't have time to watch the fireworks.

As soon as the position is cleared, we'll have to make a run for it all the way to the stadium and then hold there.

After I explain this to the squad leaders over the radio, a blinding white light tells me its time to go.

I get up, slap a fresh clip in my Carbine and take off, closely followed by three hundred soldiers, all clad in some of the best infantry armor available, be it Combat Armors or Power Armors.

Even with all the small arms fire crackling around, I can swear I hear the Brotherhood's soldiers terrified screams.

Like my father used to say: God damn I love violence!


	4. I'm Advancing In a Different Direction

"Heavy weapon squads, set up a Miniguns and Missile emplacement at every entrances; there's five: To the North, the North-west, the East and the South!"

I turn around and fire a burst in the BoS troops' general direction.

Not like I expect to hit something, but just because I love the feeling of being in a firefight.

A few laser shots fly around me in response.

Am I fucking smiling? The terrified looks the boys give me sure say so.

"Stop gawking and get in that building, move! Calico…" A blob of plasma flies so close to my shoulder pad the paint burn away, showing a small spot of silver. "Calico! Where the fuck are you, lieutenant!"

I find her, dragging an unconscious Outcast in the building trough the North-western door, to my left.

Fuck this, I grab an Outcast technician, Specialist Howling or something like that, as she passes by me, head low.

"You! I got a job for you!"

She give me a confused look and I throw her down behind a pile of debris when someone yells something about a grenade.

Once the thing's went off, I put the Specialist back on her feet.

"The ships work on heated air, like a hot air balloon, you'll need to start them and wait thirty minutes until you try to maneuver or you'll just crash it. You got thirty minutes to get familiar with how it works, alright?"

"You said ships, with an S?" She asks back, ducking under a trio of plasma shots.

Fast, for a techie…

"Yeah, I'll need you to send four peoples start the other ships, but we only need to pilot the smaller one… "-*Boom*- Shrapnel and debris rain on us. No clue what just blew up. "The small ship is a beacon, all the others are programmed to follow it!" I need to yell the last part as a Vertibird hoover over us for a second, firing its lasers.

"How do you know all this?"

"No time, MOVE!" I shove her toward the door and fire two bursts at a not-so -discreet Paladin trying to flank us.

"Sarah!" I bark in my radio. "What's the status on the southern door?"

The distant voice sounds a minute later:

" We're under heavy fire, no casualties yet! The Rangers just made their way trough to meet with us!"

Reilly's Rangers are tagging along? Sweet…

Huh? Where's my cover?

Glancing around, I realize I'm standing in the open, yet I'm pretty sure I was hiding behind a pile of cinder blocks not so long ago.

Holy shit! Things got melted by plasma fire.

I get up and sprint toward the heavy weapon team set up in the stadium's North gate, five meters away.

"'sup Cap?" A man handling a Minigun asks as I slide behind cover.

"Discovering the real power of plasma… What's your take on the situation, bro?"

He gives me a confused look, turn to his Missile Launcher-wielding buddy and finally answers:

"I think those fuckers are just too tough for us to take on head on, we need extra firepower, preferably some Outcasts Riflemen or Enclave Shock Troopers!"

My thought exactly.

"Good call, what's your rank?"

"Private first class…"

"Well, you're lieutenant now, congratulation, now start shooting!"

I open my radio and order both Enclave squads to drop in the center of the stadium and come fortify our position.

This is going to be a long battle.

-

-

Five minutes left until we can evacuate. I'm down to using my laser pistol and chucking rocks to scare the BoS guys.

"Thing's jammed!" The mini-gunner yells, immediately answered by his buddy:

"Force it!"

He does as told.

"It broke!"

I snort.

"Then it needed replacing anyway."

The first airborne boys laugh and one of them tosses a plasma pistol to the Lieutenant.

"All right, let's plant some mines and fall back!" I order after another minute.

All three squad leaders confirm:

"Wilco."

"Wilco."

"Roger."

I blink twice. What the fuck?

I'll have to see what other difference in training and code words there are between the Company members.

We run our ass trough the dirty hallways of the stadium and I can't help but make a small detour.

Nothing's changed.

"Holy fuck! What is this place?" The First Airborn squad leader swears.

I look around the room, the twenty nine bodies have long since turned to bones, but it's still a large fucking pile of bones.

I expected nostalgia, something, I don't know. All I feel is the surge of adrenaline in my blood due to the gunfight and an annoyance at the absence of other sensations.

After all, this is the room where Regulators tortured and killed the members of my tribe, where they tortured me, as well.

I don't know what they wanted, maybe they didn't want anything, maybe they just thought we were raiders, or maybe they wanted to set up their HQ in our ships and wanted to find out how they worked.

See, my tribe had been hiding in the ships since the great war, out of reach to most abominations there was on the ground, sheltered by. Until ten years ago…

"Captain, any reason we're here?"

"Took a wrong turn, lets keep moving."

Rest In Pieces, sorry bastards.

-

-  
"All squads, get on board, NOW! Airborne Squad Alpha, you're with me, we'll hold here until the airships are above the clouds. Vertibird One, get ready to pick us up, Vertibird Two, provide fire support! Lock and load people!"

Once again, my not-so-commanding voice gets all three hundred soldiers moving toward a single goal.

Getting the fuck out.

By the time the four Airships- A cargo, an 'Air Yacht', a military 'Cruiser' prototype and the tow- lifted off, the four Enclave troopers and I are already crawling around the dirt with plasma bolts and laser shots flying from every direction.

Damn, those Tin heads are everywhere!

One Vertibird attack run later, they just give up and retreat.

"Haha! Cock-suckers! Run for it!" The Enclave Lieutenant laughs, getting up.

Why would they retreat? The Vertibird? Not enough of us left to be worth it? Or maybe they have someone better suited to take us out, someone that doesn't want the others to get in her way.

Someone like the Lone Wanderer.

"Stay sharp, Troopers!" I snap, getting up and scanning my surroundings. "She's here."

"Who… Oh fuck." They all stand and form a circle.

"Anyone fucking see her?" I call.

"Negative."

"Zero target here, Captain."

"Negative on visual."

"I think I saw something…"

"Don't hesitate, shoot! She'll cut your head off if you hesitate!"

With that, I fire a shot at a shimmering shape in the air, but its just heat waves. The team's sniper fires his laser rifle too, but calls the all clear afterward.

"Vertibird one, requesting EVAC now!"

"Uhm, sorry alpha, Tesla cannon fire from the rooftops, I'll have to go around, ETA three minutes."

"We'll be dead in three minutes!" The LT snaps.

"Best I can do, sir, sorry…"

"Useless wanker!"

"Target South-East! Second floor!" I turn around, but realize what's really going on almost immediately and turn back around.

She used that trick on me once.

I draw my trench knife and throw a solid punch at… Well, nothing.

However, 'Nothing' stills scream in pain and fall backward, revealing a black rubbery suit and Chinese officer sword… Nope, that's a Shock sword.

The others all turn around.

"Oh fuck! You got her! You knocked that bitch!"

Won't be so easy.

She jumps on her feet and throws something metal on the ground.

Pulse grenade.

All four Power Armored guys crumble under the weight of their armors.

"Yeah" I note, thoughtfully, "That's probably why most of the boys don't feel like wearing Power Armors…"

I hear a muffled 'Fuck you' from one of the armors.

The Lone Wanderer is now facing me, sword in hand.

She leaps forward. I duck and stick my knife in her knee.

Not so tough after all, once you took out her stealth stuff and see trough her tactics.

She screams in pain and I feel like someone tore my spine from my back.  
Fucking electric sword.

I bite the dust and all the muscles of my body decide it's party time.

I'm going to kill that bitch SO MUCH.

As soon as I regain control of my motor functions, that is.

The girl, however, is faster to recover and quickly limps her way to me, sword in hand. Talking is a real pain in the ass when you can barely control your vocal cords.

"Y-you… Self-imp-portant b-b… BITCH! Thi-ink, you a-are a fuckin sain-aint! Who g-gave you the ri-right to judge… me. We're killers, b-both of us… I am a s-soldier. I do my J-job. Y-you're a fuck-king butcher and you l-love it!

She raises her sword to finish me off, but I put two laser shots trough her stomach first.

I stand shakily on my feet while she falls on her knees clutching he stomach. Lasers cauterized the wounds, no internal bleeding; she'll live

"Muscular spasms last only ten seconds, retarded bitch."

With that, I put my pistol to her head and…

"You know, I knew your father, James; met him on his way to Rivet City… I was wounded; he saved my life, even though he he disagreed with my view of things.  
I owe him, but he's dead, so I guess I owe you. If we ever meet again, I'll smoke you without hesitation."

I pick up her sword "I'll just keep that, as a reminder of my meeting with the great Kelly.

She looses consciousness shortly before Alpha squad resumes moving, having reseted their armors' electronics or something.

The Vertibird touches down gracefully.

"C'mon, boys, let's go."


	5. Mass Talon Migration Ahead

I lean my head on the Vertibird's hull.

"All callsigns" I sigh, ready for the bad news. "Report in, what are the casualties?"

One by one, the squads announce their loss.

Five dead, fifty lightly wounded. Could have been much worst.

Something explodes nearby.

"This is Vertibird Two," The woman's still cool voice announces, "I lost the left rotor, we're going down hard; Vertibird Two is going down!"

I can hear the screams of twisting meal from here, inside the heavily armored troop bay.

"Vertibird two, come in! Vertibird two, do you read?" No answer. "Come on! Answer me you fascist bitch!"

I slap the pilot's shoulder.

"Circle around, get us a visual on the wreckage."

"But sir…"

"We're not leaving anyone behind, soldier!" I cut him off.

The pilot nods and I turn to the soldiers in the troop bay.

"Alright Alpha! This lady down there risked her life and her bird so we could EVAC everyone, so it's only fair we give it back to her, get ready for a real combat drop; we'll have sixty seconds to move in, secure the wrecks, pick up the pilot and move out, sounds good?"

A collective 'Ou-ah!' answers me.

"Sir! I see plasma fire from the cockpit… Multiple bogeys sighted, mutants, from the looks of it! I can't drop you off straight on the crash site, area is too hot; I'll touch down in a courtyard, twenty meter east!"

"Sounds good. Lock and load, troopers, we're going deep and hard!"

They all do as told and grab some additional ammo from the crates in the back.

I grab a few 5.56mm clips and shove one in my Carbine.

Pulling the bolt and loading a bullet in the cannon makes me feel a thousand times better.

The light over the side hatch turns green and I leap trough.

An explosion sprays dirt all over my face. Good thing I'm wearing tactical goggles.

A green shape lunge trough the dirt cloud.

"You're dead, Human!"

Whatever. I blow the mutant's brains out and sprint toward the column of smoke, on the other side of that concrete wall.

"What's the situation troopers!" I yell, once I reach the wall.

"SNAFU, Sir!" The LT answers upon reaching my position, a second after.

Situation Normal: All Fucked Up; that just a notch under FUBAR.

"Roger that, bro." I laugh before chucking a grenade over the wall.

As soon as it goes off, I leap over and resume running.

Shit, all that's left of the bird is the troop compartment and a rotor.

The pilot is sitting in the now torn open troop bay, clutching her leg with one hand and firing her pistol with the other. Weird thing is, her face is bloodied and cut all over, but her officer cap is still standing defiantly on her head.

I shoot down a pair of mutants that were a bit too close for comfort and toss her my gun. A second before sliding to a stop next to her.

"Hello lady, may I escort you home?"

She slams her fist on something, something that starts ticking and turns back to me.

"Cut the crap and help me walk!"

I notice her right foot is not pointing in the right direction.

"No time to waste, pilot" I pick her up and toss her on my shoulder, ignoring her bitching.

The LT's boys are already in positing around the crash site, firing their plasma rifles in the mass of disfigured green monsters.

"Missed us, sarge?" One of the troopers laugh, making the pilot snort.

"That's right, McKiney, I was starting to feel empty without your smartass cracks."

"It's part of my charm."

"Sad that it's the only part."

"Nice to see you again too, sarge."

I hand the pilot to the LT and jump on the wall as the trooper places her on a sitting position, ignoring the 'Pings!' that his Tesla Armor emits from the hail of .32 bullets.

"Hey, captain."

I get down and pick the sergeant back up.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, none of my former CO would have done that for me. Coming back and all."

The LT, who just landed next to me, objects:

"Hey, I came back for you!"

"I meant Autumn, he would have ordered you to leave me behind."

"Autumn was a retarded Dickweed." McKiney states, flatly, as I drop the Sarge in one of Vertibird One's seats.

"Just don't go feeling all special on me, Sergeant." I laugh. "I would have done the same for any of my boys."

The troops quickly climb in and we take off again, with McKiney happily ranting.

"In and out, baby! That's a real badass rescue op you see only once in a lifetime! That was so fucking worth risking to get clubbed, Ou-Ah?"

I nod. The bird shakes as whatever explosive the Sergeant armed in her bird detonates, taking dozens of mutants with it, most likely.

"Ou-ah, bro."

I lean back against the bulkhead.

"Hey, Captain, I had a question." The LT speaks up.

"What is it, mate?"

"Why didn't you kill that bitch, back at the stadium?"

I sigh. "Repaid a dept.

I look at the Shock sword, wrapped in a spare uniform and tucked in the equipment netting.

This is one heck of a weapon… Sadly, I have no clue how it works.

-

-  
Two days later, I'm in the Military airship, attending my new responsibilities as the Company Commander.  
"NULLI SECUNDUS? You have to be shitting me!" Second To None, does fit the Lyon's Pride, come to think of it.

Everyone in the room laughs and Sarah shrugs, Nulli Secundus it is, then! I type it in and look at the next unit on the list.

Who's idea was it to make a new database anyway? Wait, it was mine.

At least, I don't have to do the whole inventory, like Sydney… Boy is she pissed.

Next unit is the first (and only) Campaign Artillery Division.

"So, you choose your Motto yet?" I ask the Sergeant that stepped forward.

"Yup: 'You Yell, We Shell'"

…Why the fuck not?

Next up is the radio operation unit. God, I hope they'll come up with something serious.

"'You can talk about us, but you can't talk without us.' Or, if that's too long 'No Comm, No Bomb'"

"You guys doing it on purpose, aren't you?"

The soldier simply shrugs.

Second Sniper unit.

"Run And You'll Just Die Tired"

First Airborne.

"We Live So That Others May Die."

Third Recon.

"Anything worth fighting for is worth fighting dirty for."

First Fast Deployment.

"He who lives to run away will live to run another day."

I glare at the Sergeant for ten seconds before entering the Motto in the database.

The whole idea is that, eventually, we'll have more recruits coming, and I want to have clearly defined divisions to send them to.

And I'm bored right out of my fucking mind on that airship; I mean, the view's nice the first day, but it gets old pretty quick.

"Next."

-

-

I instinctively installed my office in my old room; just seems right.

Everything was just as I left it, BB gun on the desk, switchblade under the pillow, Vault 42 Jumpsuits filling the drawers…

The things sure as hell don't fit anymore, but they're there.

I don't remember where they came from. Fuck I don't remember where I come from! As far as I know, my life started sixteen years ago in with those two persons saying they were my parents.

Well, that's not entirely true, I remember a very bright light, burning my eyes, but that's about it.

In fact, even today I can't take off my tactical tinted goggles -or, when I'm off duty and don't want to look like a freak, sunglasses- when the sun is too bright otherwise I'll hurt my eyes. Never seen anyone else with that problem, but then, I've seen peoples with six toes, eleven fingers, three nostrils and four ears, I guess having weak eyes isn't that bad after all.

I sigh and toss the glasses on the desk, like I always did ten years ago, as if nothing had changed.

When's the last time I slept in a real bed, without fearing someone would steal my stuff?

Oh, yeah; ten years ago.

I get to bed, close my eyes and sigh.

Damn, this is good… Hey, I'll have to free some time on my agenda to take a shower tomorrow; ahh… purified, non irradiated water, maybe I can even get that trash to produce hot water.

Yeah, let's not get our hopes up, clean water will do.

It's good to be home, ain't it?


	6. Hangover, Merc Style?

I step over a few passed out grunts and a lot of empty beers before finally managing to enter the mess hall without stepping on anyone.

Looks like the boys had a little party last night… And they're gonna regret it this morning.

The room already smells of coffee and someone took care of throwing passed out Talons in the hallway.

Reilly's Rangers.

Guess I shouldn't be surprised; who, other than me, wakes up at five in the morning?

All four Rangers turn around when I enter the room, apparently wondering how comes there's a Talon still moving.

I'm not wearing my armor, but a black tinted Chinese Army Jumpsuit with a Talon logo on the shoulder.

"'morning." I mutter, heading for the coffee machine.

They just keep staring.

"Is there a problem, Rangers?"

The red haired commander stands.

"You sound familiar, did we ever meet?"

I never fought the Rangers, if that's what she mean, but I can't say I have any idea where she could have met me…

"Well, you might have heard me screaming orders all day yesterday."

Speaking of which, my throat is still sore.

Her face brightens.

"Oh shit, you're that captain!" Every Ranger leaps from their chair and snap into a salute. "Honored meeting you, sir!"

This. Is. Awkward.

"Uhhh… At ease…" I mutter, "You don't have to salute me, you know, you're not really part of Talon Company. Well, that is, unless you'd want to, of course."

They all stare at each others. Reilly frowns.

"Well, can't say we'd fit in, so we'd have to be able to refuse assignments, you must…"

"Deal, welcome aboard." I cut her off. "Only thing I'd like from you is to select two other squads and turn them into Rangers, think you can do that?"

Her mouth hangs open.

"Ain't you going a little fast? Don't you want to think things trough?"

She's right, everything I've done in the last month was on a hunch, instinct; but seeing as it got me where I am now, it can't be such a bad thing, right?

"No, I'm planning some radical changes in the Company and I need it to happen very fast, to reduce our vulnerability."

Reilly tilts her head on the side.

"About that, what exactly do you plan?"

She locks her eyes with mine and I do the same while talking.

"To understand what I plan to do, you must see the Wasteland as a whole; there are many factions growing in importance and each has a different ideology and separate goals, once they meet, they may have amicable relations at first but sooner or later, they will go to war with each others over something or another and these war could last for decades, centuries, maybe; centuries of massacres, genocides and pillage.  
Unless, these group are too afraid of a particular military power to actually resort to total warfare with each others.  
This military power simply can not be a government, for they would use their authority to gain more land and enforce their own beliefs on others. Which means, a private organization without no ties and loyalty to only one cause; money. Genocides don't pay, quite the opposite, they are bad for business, and pillaging is useless when you already have solid supply lines."

The tech, Donovan, speaks up.

"So your idea is to install a Mercenary force as a peacekeeper? That's crazy!"

"Not peacekeepers, but to keep a feeling of danger, make them understand that any attempt at world domination would be bad four the Military Organization's business and, thus, that it would respond to such attempts with decisive force. A bit like the Brotherhood.  
Now, if you'll excuse me, the Pride being on the Cargo, I need to beat some discipline into these wannabes."

"Go ahead."

I grab a water bucket used to scrub the deck, walk to the Talon filled hallway and yell:

"WAKE THE FUCK UP!" Before throwing the dirty water in the whole.

"We're attacked?"

"Fuck I pissed myself!"

"What? What's going on!"

Confusion reigns for exactly three seconds.

"When I tell you to wake up, you WAKE UP! Give me twenty, NOW!"

They all share a confused look, wondering to who I'm talking.

"I'm talking to all of you, and now it's thirty because you're dumb! Move it or I'll have the whole supply of beer throw over board, you sorry bastards!"

I get on the ground and start making my own thirty push-ups, soon followed by everyone else.

"Alright!" I yell once everyone's done. "that's a start, now go wake your squads and tell them to meet me in the cargo bay in five, and don't you go being fucking late or you'll discover that there are things in life far worst than Deathclaw."

"Sir, Yes, Sir!"

I can hear the doctor, Butcher, laugh.

"This is gonna be good."

Right. I snap around.

"Rangers, the fuck you're doing on your asses? I want to see you in the cargo bay in full body armor ten minutes ago, move it!"

They wanted to be part of Talon Company? They are now.

-

-  
"That's five kilometers people, c'mon, two more and you can go back to bed!"

Did I mention I was evil?

After having everyone forced out of bed, I had them do push-ups and sit-ups until most of them simply couldn't move their upper body anymore.

Then, I had them run around the airship.

They only did two kilometers although I'll tell them it was five, boost their confidence, but tomorrow they'll do three, then four, then six, then ten… And then there's a fucking limit to daily fucking training.

They're all sweating their asses off when I tell them to stop.

Morning drill wasn't standard procedure in the Company, although weekly physical tests were mandatory.

Actually, none of these boys could be considered as unfit, they're Wastelanders, they've always had to fight to stay alive.

Not to mention most fatties and other misfits end up as Molerat chow very quick.

Never seen a fat person, come to think of it… Maybe there are some out west.

Or maybe the West is just large radioactive crater, but since the BoS originated from there; I doubt it.

Oh well.

"Good, very good. But that's just a start, I want to see all your pale arses same time tomorrow morning, don't be fucking late!"

Jesus Christ my whole body hurts, although there is no way I'll let it show.

Maybe next time I'll just let the boys work out and yell orders…

Lead by example or don't lead at all, they say.

Shiiiitt.


	7. HighTech Scaving

**A\N Here's another one, not as much action as I'd like, but what can I say :S**

**God and the Snake: Yeah, I'm not really a good poet… Actually, I'm not really good author, which is why I'm practicing ^^ Yet I think it being not very good somewhat fits the fact it was (In the story) written by drunk Mercs. Thanks for Reviewing, always appreciated!**

**Disclamer, I own this story, just not its content.**

"Alright, so you think we could salvage some Enclave gear from that base?"

The Lieutenant smiles.

"I don't think so, I KNOW we will."

It's the first time I see him without his helmet; nothing like I had expected.

His tanned skin clearly shows this guy spent a lot of time outside his armor and the spider web shaped scars covering all of the left side of his face too.

He's old too, in his late forties, but he's still built like a Super Mutant.

"Okay, so we send you in with the Rangers, if it's clear; you call, if it's not; you grab what you can and run your ass out of there."

He frowns at that.

"Why wouldn't it be clear? It's been abandoned for thirty-nine years!"

"The Enclave tamed Deathclaws back then?"

"Oh…"

Yeah, not a pleasant surprise to have, uh?

"You coming with us, captain?" He asks. He somewhat sound like he hopes I will.

"Nope, would only get in your way; I'm not trained for this type of ops, but I'll take care of salvage operations afterward."

He nod and put his helmet back on.

The optics flicker one second before shining a bright red.

"Once we're done here, you'll have the firepower and tech to slap the Brotherhood back to Stone Age, guaranteed, sir." And, with that enlightened comment, he leaves the briefing room.

Ten minutes later, I'm standing over the holographic tactical display, watching team Wolf's progression.

"Wolf, Clover is inbound, proceed in the bunker, they will meet you on the way." I order.

"Roger that command, Wolf is advancing. Opening main door…"

There's a minute of silence.

"Main door jammed, forcing."

Another moment passes.

"Main door opened. Emergency lights are offline. "

McKiney's voice makes me jump, it's far from being as calm and professional as the LT's

"Things were rigged to a fission generator, why aren't they on?"

"Doesn't matter, switch on NV."

"Wilco."

"Area clear, proceed."

I only hear their calm breathing for a few seconds.

"First checkpoint reached. No guard, as expected, no signs of battle. Door's open… Hold on… McKiney, take point, Rock, cover him!" His voice is no longer calm.

"Did you see that?" Mac's voice seems pretty tense.

"It's the size of a Brahmin, how could I miss it!" That must be that Rock guy.

"Open up!"

The radio is filled with statics for one second, then I hear McKiney laughing.

"Wolf!" I bark "Report! What's going on."

"Now that is a BIG Molerat…"

"Was, Lieutenant, it WAS a big Molerat." Corrects a female voice I never herd before.

"Shut up, Dex."

"Wilco."

Reilly's voice pops into the comm.

"Wolf, this is Clover, we're entering the bunker now, friendlies on your six."

"Roger that, Clover."

"How's the view, Ma'am?"

What?

"Come again, Wolf?"

"On our six."

I grin at that; Mac is going to get his ass handed to him.

Brick snickers.

"Me an' Eugene think it'd look better with some more holes in it, even more when you say all those funny jokes."

"Who the fuck is Eugene?"

"Eugene's her Minigun." I explain with a laugh.

"Uh… -four, Clover, shutting up."

Wow, McKiney's not talking… Who said violence or threats of physical injuries never led anywhere?

"Sir, we reached the lobby, no sign anyone's ever been scavenging around here, radiations within acceptable levels… A little high; fission reactor must be leaking."

"Okay, split up in groups of two, one Ranger and one Trooper per groups, secure the area we are interested in and isolate the rest of the base, no sense wasting time."

"Got it, Donovan, you're with Dexter, Mckiney, you're with Brick…"

"Erm… Sir?"

"…Just fucking with you, you'll go with Butcher, Rock'll be with Brick, God help any hostile they come across…"

"Amen, sir."

"…Reilly, you're sticking with me."

"Got it."

The Pilot Sergeant we rescued the other day walks in the room but freezes upon noticing that I'm buzzy.

I wave for her to come in and turn the radio to IN only.

"What is it, Sarge?"

"Bravo squad just won't leave me the fuck alone with this; they talked with some Outcast Specialists and want to requisition a few suits of Power Armor to make a new model."

Ah, that's nice, I suppose.

"Why not talk to me directly?"

"They think you have a better chance of saying yes if I'm the one asking."

Ah, that makes sense, I supp… Wait, nope, it doesn't.

"Why the fuck would they think that?"

She shrugs.

"'cause I'm a girl, 'cause you saved my life, 'cause none of them knows what the fuck they are talking about. Beats me."

Girl or not, she's old enough to be my mother… Well I think; can't even see the upper half of her face with that officer cap she keeps wearing, all I know is that she's Hispanic, because of her skin.

"Tell them I agree; and that if they fuck up, they pay for the parts."

She smirks and leave the room.

"…orce it then!" Dexter seems annoyed.

"Yeah right, with what?" Donovan too. "My rifle, my wrench, my…"

"If you say 'My dick' I punch you."

"That's got to be the worst threat I ever herd."

"I'm wearing a Power Fist."

"Oh… "

From the tone of her voice, Reilly's trying hard not to laugh.

"We're hearing you on the radio, guys."

"Sorry, M…"

"He started it!" The Enclave Commando squeals.

I fall off my chair, clutching my stomach and laughing my ass off like some school kid.

"What the fuck is that sound? Dex, you really did punch the Tech?"

"No! He's still in one piece…"

"I think it's the captain…"

"Having fun up there, boss?" Mac laughs.

I get back on my feet and grab the mic.

"Affirmative, Wolf, proceed with the mission."

"Fucking Jackpot!"

If it's another Molerat, I'm going down there and kicking their asses.

"Report, Lieutenant."

"Advanced Mk I, sir, twenty of them, from what I can see… Shit…"

Okay, this is getting old.

"Look, Wolf, do I really have to come down there and see what's going on or are you going to tell me?"

"Sorry, Command. I just noticed the armory 's energy weapon section was empty."

"What do we have then?"

"M79 Grenade rifles, a LOT of weapon mods, grenades, Miniguns, the fuck is that? No I never saw that kind of thing before, that's why I'm asking you! Whatever, I think it's a Power Fist of some kind…

Lots of ammo too; both Ballistic and Energy."

Great, we were low on that.

"What the fuck! Who used explosives?"

The LT's pissed. So am I.

"Sorry, sir, shot a fire ant, went boom, Tech guy's still stunned."

"What!"

Donovan sound like his ears are ringing like hell's bells.

"I sealed off that section. Nothing else around here, making our way back to the main entrance to point our salvage teams in the right direction... Come on Don… Don! DONOVAN! WE. ARE. LEAVING."

"What?"

Alright, that leaves the Brick-Rock and McKiney-Butcher teams to report.

Hope they find something worth it.

Alright, stay focused, don't waste time; I could start sending the GENIE squads down there to pick up the stuff in the armory.

"Walkers, do you copy?"

"Like a floppy. What's up Cap'?"

I facepalm. Damn kid's barely sixteen, but he grew up in Lamplight and they make' em as tough as it comes down there.

"Get the Scav team on the move, take one of the trucks, if the motor pool gives you any trouble, remind them who's the Company Captains."

"Ten-four, mungo, I'm on my way!"

'Motor pool' is really just the fancy name we give to the Outcast parts of the ships; we let them play with the fancy stuff we find and they fix our gear. Fair trade.

"Command, this is Butcher, we found barricading and fortifying equipment, as well as a few cages and generators of some kind."

"Understood, tag'em and bag'em."

"Sir, this is Rock, we found the VB-02s' hangar."

VB-02? Wasn't it V-22? Not like it makes a difference or anything.

"So?"

"No gunships, but there's two transport model. Shit's old, still run on gas, I think."

Gas? As in Flamer fuel? Who the fuck would fuel something as expensive as a Vertibird with a substance used to toast peoples?

Crazy Enclave bastards.

"Oh, that's interesting; it actually uses hydrogen cells… That sure is less of a pain to find. I think… What do you say, Command, we take them? I'm pretty sure they would fit in the carg- I mean, Eagle Two."

"Sending the pilots along with the truck, fill the transports with everything you found and RTB, you have five hours."

"Wilco."

Scaving time!


	8. War, War Never Changes

**A/N: Midwest Brotherhood is a semi-canon faction, so I'm pretty much going to make it like I want to **

**God and The Snake: Thanks man! I'll work on making it clearer, but It was somewhat meant to be fuzzy; it's the Wastes after all! And, I think Walkers is the only one who knows the answer to that o_O**

Abandoned Enclave base

Chicago's Outskirts

Chicago… I heard there was a huge war around here, many years ago.

The city's still smoking.

I look up at the four airships, floating around twenty meters over us, the Cargo's crane lifting material into its belly while the two transport Vertibird carry crates of weapons and ammo in the Cruiser.

Talon Company is becoming a well oiled war machine.

Sitting on the top of the truck I watch Walkers as he carries two of those large plates of armored polymer the Enclave uses to set up barricades.

"Can't you fucking help, sir?" He groans, throwing the stuff in the back of the truck.

I take a drag on my cigarette.

"Why would you want a mungo to help you? Too heavy for you?"

"With all due fucking respect sir… Uh, who are these guys?"

I look over my shoulder and spot four men in power armor coming toward us from the road. I've never seen a model like that before.

My guess? Enclave.

"Get inside… NOW! Hurry! Go get the others!"

He spots them too:

"FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!"

He had a few run ins with the Enclave already, still traumatized. Can't blame him.

"All units, come in!" I bark in my radio, getting only statics. "Comm. units, signal's shit: Clean it up!"

"That's useless, we are jamming your frequency." A calm voice mocks, with a light southern accent.

"What the fuck do you want fuck-tard!" Most diplomatic answer I could find.

"This is our land, you are looting on our territory; whatever you found in that bunker is ours."

The guy stops using the radio, since he's standing right next to me anyway.

God damn! What armor are they wearing? Looks like Advanced MK II but in more organic.

"Really now, and who might you fuckers be?"

"We are the Brotherhood of Steel; what, you've been living under a rock or someth…"

He gasps and they all turn to aim their weapons –Gauss Rifles- at the First Airborne boys, coming out of the bunker, plasma rifle in hands.

Protector Casdin and his Outcasts, who insisted on seeing the bunker, come out a second later.

"Midwest Brotherhood…" He spits. "How dare you call yourselves Brothers of steel, you're barely more than over-equipped Raiders!"

But they completely ignore the Outcast, instead focusing all their attention on the ex-Enclave commandos.

Apparently, they are just as perplex about the Commandos' armors as I was about theirs.

"Maybe we could work something out afte all, uh?" I don't even try to hide the sarcasm in my voice.

They stare at each others and the apparent leader nods. They won't pass on that kind of tech.

"Please follow us to our camp; you'll have to meet the elder."

Yeah, right.

"Nah, don't feel like it."

"This was not an offer either you obtain the right of passage from the elder or we will mark you as invaders, you are on our territory, we have the number, tech and terrain advantage, fighting us would be a stupid idea.

I scratch my nose. The First Airborne Lieutenant taps hi comm. antenna lightly, as if trying to get a reception, then nod once.

Perfect.

"Sure, my boys will continue the salvage operations here while I accompany you to your camp, how's that sound?"

"Good."

Damn does he sound pissed. I like it that way, more likely to let some intel slip.

"Lead the way bro!"

The guys all turn around grumbling, except one that seems to be staring at me for a few seconds.

"Got a problem, buddy?" I ask as I walk past him holding the look it's bright orange optics give me."

"Yeah" A female voice answers, not a hint of hostility in it, "You have access to that kind of Advanced Power Armors, but you wear a Combat Armor, why?"

Heh, that is a good question, truth is, I just don't like Power Armors, not reliable enough and they make you clumsy and careless, with a combat armor, you stay alert, you react faster that you would if your senses were dulled by a false feeling of invincibility.

"… Plus, I've had this one since my first day as a Merc, it got me trough hell and back at least five times now. Loyalty isn't something that applies only to living being; 'If it ain't broken, don't fix it' and all that shit, you know?"

She nod and I can hear a smile in her voice.

"Absolutely, that's a thing most Paladins just don't seem to understand; take care of your gear and it'll do the same for you, throw it away like garbage each time you see a toy that looks better and it will always break when you need it the most."

She extends her hand.

"I'm Initiate Falco."

"Captain Cole." I answer, shaking her armored hand.

"You're a Merc?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

The one of the men walking in front of me turns his helmet toward us.

"Cool; Khadi –Initiate Falco- and I wanted to be Mercenaries when we were young, but most merc crews in the area were either destroyed or assimilated by the BoS, so we joined the Brotherhood instead."

"You two have known each others for a while?"

He scoffs "She's my retarded twin sister."

Heh, I got a feeling the trip to their camp is going to be interesting.

We walk for almost an hour, talking about some of the battle we fought –Or the one I fought, since the Midwest Brotherhood hasn't seen any real combat for seventy years- before reaching a large concrete structure built in the side of a mountain with a door large enough for one of our airships to fly trough. Well, there used to be a door, but it was gutted by some high-explosives, apparently.

"The fuck is this?" I breathe.

"Brotherhood's Main base in the area, Vault 0."

Shit.

As I walk trough the blasted door, I count seventy-two Paladins guarding it and discreetly tap on the TALK button of my radio;

Two longs, five shorts, three longs, a pause, one short, two longs, two shorts and one long.

To anyone not as well trained as I was, I'm just tapping a tune on my chest-piece, to Calico; I just gave most necessary tactical data for an attack on this place.

The Falcos are the only one who caught on what I was doing, seeing as they both glare at me, but they keep quiet about it, unless they are using private communication channels.

We walk in what seems to be an airplane hangar buzzing with activity and filled refurbished with Jeeps, tanks and APCs.

Sixteen jeeps, six APCs and four tanks. For Christ's sake that's more firepower that what the Enclave used to have.

We reach a freight elevator and the twins take off their helmets, obviously relieved to be home.

Damn, they're barely over fourteen, what kinda bastard sends kids like that on four men patrol? I mean, I have kids their age in the company too, but they are either mechanics, GENIE or cooks.

"So," I ask, leaning on the elevator's wall, "Who's the CO in this place?"

"Robert Nelson, We call him The Warrior."

Riiight, I should find myself a sweet name like that; How about The Mercenary? Or The Contractor?

Fucking self-important tin heads.

The elevator suddenly stops and the two silent Paladins growl in annoyance.

"They are going to kill you." Khadi's brother whispers while his superiors are busy.

"Uh huh, I guess so." I mutter back.

"You know it's a trap?" Khadi breathe, apparently annoyed.

"You're Tin heads, predictable, plus…"

"…I won't let them." The Lieutenant's voice finishes for me.

They look around for a second but can't find the Commando, who's training and stealth boy generator have allowed to follow us since we left the bunker.

Both Initiates are a shade paler than they used to be.

Their base is being infiltrated and they helped it without knowing about it. I expect they'll start screaming right about now, but Khadi just shrugs and press something on her wrist.

"If you're so sure…"

Then the elevator resumes its ascension.

'If you're so sure…' Am I? Once again, I only acted on instinct; of course, I know there's the whole company out there ready to come charging if the LT tells them and I know his comm. system is jamming-proof; he told me.

But the whole plan, the actual reason I want to meet the Elder is simply beyond me, I guess I'll find out once I get there, even though they plan to kill me and the rest of Talon Company as soon as they decide we are of no use to them.

The fuck am I getting myself into this time?


	9. The Cancer Is Spreading

**A\N: God And The Snake: I'm British.**

**Just kidding. And the ships are based on real-world zeppelin, just with higher capacity and speed (Since it's in the future :/) Length: 776 feet, diameter: 100 feet, can accommodate 500 persons (Well; 200 for the yacht, 150 for the cargo, 500 for the cruiser and 30 for the tow.) And thanks again for telling me your opinion **

**Rescuer Productions: Well, it IS random shit about crazy Talons; Anyway, Thanks for reviewing dude!**

Vault 0

Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel Stronghold

Briefing room

I shake the elderly man's hand.

The Warrior seems to be almost a hundred years old and his eyes are like steel; strong, unwavering, bright… Ice-cold.

"Captain Cole, I ran your name, your company and your logo trough every database at my disposal…"

Let me guess, they didn't find anything.

However, he looks at a computer screen and begins reading.

"2077, Marine Force Recon THETA Company and SOCOM unit TANGO, set up at fort Bannister, split away from the main U.S. Army after a nuclear exchange between the U.S. and China, they become a mercenary force know as The Claws. Somewhere around 2130, they change their name to The Talons and become one of the most feared and respected force on the East coast, until the arrival of the Brotherhood of Steel in their territory around the year 2240, upon which Talon Company gets marked as another raider crew and enters a long and bloody war with the Brotherhood.

Despite their superior training and experience, Talon Company is slowly dying and soon begins to accept even the most… Dishonorable…contracts

By 2280, they are indeed barely more than raiders."

Wow, I'm almost impressed. 

"History lesson's over?" I ask.

"History is important, lad, it tells us who we are dealing with, where they come from and how they will react to certain situations. For example, I don't know you personally, but being your faction's leader, I guess you must be its perfect representative; you are somewhat of a Jack of All Trades, you know your way with stealth ops, you can fight on the front line no problem, you can obviously lead with just as much discernment a any General and take orders like the lowest Grunt, all that matters to you, in the end, is to be paid and alive. Am I mistaken."

Damn this guy never shuts the hell up.

"Look, Warrior," I snap, taking an aggressive tone, "You know how far I traveled to come here and you know I'm not the type that enjoys chit-chat, so let's skip the whole evil banter crap and get to the part where you either ask me to submit to your command or let me go with a pat on the back."

He smiles broadly.

"I don't suppose you'd accept to be assimilated in the Brotherhood…"

"Talon Company bows to now one."

"You will bow to the Brotherhood or you will be eradicated." His voice is just as cold as his eyes.

Megalomaniac. He wouldn't talk like that if I had all my weapons.

All I have right now is the plasma pistol the LT slipped in my boot after the guards patted me down for weapons before entering the room.

"No."

"Kill kim."

In the blink of an eye, my pistol is out and in the Warrior's face.

I'll have to thank Garrows for the reflex sharpening exercises.

"Not going to happen."

There's a sound close to that of a chainsaw and both Paladins fall to the ground in a geyser of blood, leaving only me, Nelson and the twins standing.

The LT too, of course, but I really can't say if he's actually standing or crawling around, so…

"This base is full of my brothers, you will not last ten paces."

I grin and pull the trigger.

Not so high and mighty now, are ya?

The twins are just mortified, whether it's because I just ruined their life or in admiration of the LT's professionalism, I can't tell, nor do I care.

"Still want to be Mercs, kids?" I ask them.

They don't; their friends and families are here, but they still tell me where the armory and detention cells are.

Lots of high-tech gear in the former and lots of deserters/rebels/free thinkers in the later.

"Lieutenant…" I'm about to distribute orders, but something bugs me. "Say, just what is your name anyway?"

He laughs, "Vito, Vito Darling."

…Shit.

"Alright, Lieutenant, tell the boys to get in position for the assault.

No need to be discreet, we'll let the BoS mount their defense then hit them from behind. Hit and run, we're just looting what we can and leaving; I don't want to begin a war with those guys, we'd be crushed... And tell the guys to steal as many vehicles as they can; level one priority."

"Wilco."

I don't think the Brotherhood will use its tanks inside their own vault, would be stupid, so the forces should be pretty even… That is, until I finish organizing the first "infiltration-combat-prison-break Operation" in my career.

I punch Khadi in the face and knock her brother out when he bends to check on her.

"What was that for, sir?" The LT scoffs.

"Didn't want to implicate them more than they already are; plus, I don't trust…"

Four BoS knights in combat armors rush trough the door and immediately get cut down by plasma fire.

"…Them."

Sometimes, those Enclave guys scare the shit out of me.

"Sir, Stealth Boy's out," The LT spits as he becomes visible once again, "We'll have to go loud and go hard, I suggest you use one of those T-52."

T-52?

"Come again Lieutenant?"

He kneels next to the door and point his gun in the hallway.

"Their armors, sir!"

"Oh."

I remove the armored parts of my combat armor and look at the choice I have.

They're all the same, look like a tesla armor without electrodes, except the one The Warrior was using; Its more compact, darker, has glowing blue bits and some kind of chain linking the left shoulder pad to the chest.

I decide to take the Warrior's suit and one of the twin's helmet.

From what the system diagnostic tells me, it's pretty much a lighter version of the Advanced MkII; better mobility to the cost of lighter protection.

I grab a Gauss rifle and my gear from the Knight that searched me.

"We all set, sir?"

"Affirmative, you're on point, I'll cover you."

"Wilco."

For the first five minutes, everything is simple, we don't meet anyone or anything and the twin's indications are still fresh in my mind:

Right, forward, first door on the left, forward, right…

Then I start regretting knocking them both.

"We're lost, sir, aren't we?"

Yeah.

"Nope, we're just using a different path to confuse the enemy. Turn left here."

The commando disappears trough the bulkhead and I scan my surrounding before foll…

*Bang*

I bump in the LT.

"The fuck Vito?"

I look under his shoulder –I'd need a stool or something to look over it- and see what seems to be an assembly line. It's actually functional…

I shove the LT out of the way and take in the sight.

Oh fuck! They manufacture their own armors! I tough only the Enclave could do that!

However, a closer inspection reveals that they are using some kind of shitty aluminum-like material instead of ceramic and that the armors are being built at a painfully slow rate.

Still, those are Power Armors alright, a factory like that could field a decent sized army.

Decent sized… That's not telling much, is it?

In the wasteland, if you have thirty soldiers, you have some weight, a hundred is a small army, two hundred is an army, five hundred's a decent sized army, a thousand is a force to be reckoned with and anything above is a super-power.

Of course, training and equipment factors in your army's power too. With these suits, which I suppose could be called Powered Metal Armor, a hundred soldier would still be an army… What's Enclave boy doing?

"Lieutenant?"

"Sir?"

"Are you planting explosives?"

He looks up from the pile of fission batteries he was rigging together.

"Does it pose a problem, sir?"

"…None; proceed."

It takes him just a minute to rig the whole room with explosives.

"For the Brotherhood!" Someone yells behind me.

I instinctively kneel and turn around.

My brain barely registers what's happening:

Paladin with super sledge; swinging the oversized hammer at my head, my gun lining up the BoS' head. Too slow… large black fist intercepting the sledge in midair.

Then everything returns to normal as the LT and the Paladin wrestle for the weapon.

I glance at the door.

Two knights are taking aim at the commando.

Two Laser pistol shots later, one of them's brained and the other's missing a kneecap.

The LT's still fighting with the Paladin for the Sledge when I put my laser gun at the base of the latter's skull and pull the trigger.

Darling looks at the corpse for a few seconds.

"I could have taken him."

He finally whines.

The last Knight tries to crawl away, but I step on his perforated knee, pinning him into place and earning a sickening 'crunch'.

I kneel and turn on the night-vision mode, making the armor's optics glow even brighter.

"I am looking for the detention cells; you have one chance of telling me where to find them while retaining most of your physical integrity."

"FUCK YOU!"

"Wrong answer. Lieutenant, give me your Ripper."


	10. Monsters

**A/N) 1:Yup, the Warrior is the name of Fallout Tactics' main character.**

**2:The same number as they had in the capitol, 250, plus around 50 robots. If you count the outcasts, then they have 320 soldiers and 150 robots.**

"Oh my god! Oh god, help! My leg, you cut my fucking leg!"

I wipe a drop of blood from my left photo-sensor and shut off the Ripper.

"I left the bone, it's nothing an Auto-doc can't fix, what I'll do next, however, will be permanent. Where is the detention center!"

"Please! I have a daughter!"

"Really, now? What's her name?"

"Kathia!"

"You miserable fuck!" I cut off two of his fingers. "Where. Is. The. Detention. Center?" I repeat, making it clear it's the last time.

"Oh god, this can't be happening! On the left, fifth door! Please don't kill me."

I kick him in the forehead and get up.

"He has a daughter…" The LT whispers.

"No, he doesn't; he was lying."

"How do you know?"

"If you had a daughter and were in his situation, would you give a man like me the means of finding her?"

He remains quiet. I glance at the holotags.

Knight Jeremy Falco.

Kathia sounds a lot like Khadi, doesn't it?

I reach the fifth door on the left.

It's a blast door.

It's locked.

"Think you can pick the lock?" I ask my companion.

"What lock?"

Fuck.

"Got anymore explosives with you?"

He nod and hand me a plasma charge.

"It's a blast door, sir, it can't…" I put the charge on the concrete wall, right next to the door. "Oh."

We back away a few paces and I crouch while the LT hits the detonator.

First time I've seen Plasma charges in action without being on the receiving end; it creates a four meters wide plasma blob that lasts for just one second but burn as hard as the sun.

How the fuck did I survive two of these?

Oh, yeah, duck, cower, pray.

As soon as the plasma has dissipated, we both rush trough the hole in the wall.

"Seventy seconds!" I announce, deciding one minute and ten seconds is all we can spare. "Go!"

I get the right side and Darling gets the left. The suit's infrareds are useless with all that residual heat so I just use my eyes

"Tangos, twelve o'clock!" Vito barks.

"Got right!"

"Got left!"

Both Knights are swooped off their feet by Plasma and supersonic rounds.

"Tango down!"

"Tango down!"

The room is filled with cells, themselves filled with dirty, tired and sick peoples.

"Sweep the area! Go left, I go right."

"Wilco."

I move forward, ignoring the pleas for help from the convicts.

I reach the end of the room; there is some sort of desk there.

I look under it and find a young Scribe shaking in fear.

I grab her by the collar and drag her out.

"Open the cells!" I order.

"Never!"

Predictable, I'm about to punch her when I notice she too is barely over fourteen.

I don't hurt little girls… She doesn't know that.

"Do what I tell you or I will be forced to hurt you, kid, and you'll end up helping me one way or another."

She gives me a frightened look.

Just a kid, shouldn't be in a war.

"On the desk! There's a command console!"

"Good girl."

I turn around and start hitting buttons one by one, slowly releasing every prisoner in this dump.

Some of them don't even move, some run out straight away and most regroup around me.

Tribals, renegade paladins, freelancers… Perfect recruits.

There's around fifty of them now.

The LT covers the door and signals me we have thirty five seconds left.

"Alright! Listen up! This is a prison break! Those of you who will make it outside are free; once you're out, there's a mercenary force known as Talon Company waiting, you all have a place there, IF you actually make it out. The Lieutenant there and I are headed for the armory; those of you that wish to tag along may follow and get geared there. Fucking get moving!"

thirty of them follow, the rest are slowly circling the scribe, laughing and imitating dog sounds.

"Fucking animals." Darling spits, not looking like he's going to do anything.

Why would we? Dumb bitch should have run when she could.

I'm about to turn around and proceed with the plan when her eyes lock with mine in an hateful look.

It's not her fault, it's mine.

One of the guys punch her and she disappear under a human sea, screaming for help.

"Go ahead, LT, I'll be right behind you."

"Wilco."

I dig my hand trough the mass of angry convicts and grab the scribe's elbow.

One good yank and the kid's out of there, confused but unharmed.

One of the men tries to attack me. Bad move.

Once his brain has been splattered across the room, I turn to the others.

"Where I am from, rabid dogs are put down."

The room grows eerie quiet as the scribe run away and I slowly leave the room after her.

Fucking Mercenary Honor is going to kill me some day.

What was it again?

I am a professional soldier, my behavior, training and equipment shall reflect that at all time.

I shall always uphold my contract and, when a job proves too complicated, always buy it back at face value.

I shall not rape.

I shall not pillage unless my CO gives me the all clear.

Some other shit too, but it was not important enough for me to bother.

I reach the armory a few seconds after the 'recruits'.

"Friendly coming in." I warn before entering.

Everyone is slowly getting geared up while Vito watches the door.

"Relax your muscles, you're not doing the walking, the suit is, you just have to nudge it in the right direction." I can hear one of the paladins explain to a young Tribal.

The kid takes a jerky step forward, then a smoother one and slowly gets the hang of it.

Fuck, it took my boys at least a day of training to learn how to use power armors; he did it in two minutes.

"Lieutenant, tell the troops to begin the assault."

"Gladly. Sir, check out the back of the room, it might interest you."

I do as told and…

This' gotta be a joke.

"Their standard infantry suits are not outfitted with gas masks. I checked."

"Everyone! Listen up I want you all to pick one of those advanced helmets, those with air filters integrated to them. Good!" I turn to the Lieutenant. "Ventilation shaft?"

"Would take five minutes for it to spread trough the whole base and two minutes to get to those not equipped with air filters. After another five minutes, those with filters will start feeling effects and after ten, everyone in this base will be changing."

"Do it."

"Okay, you sorry bastards, we are leaving! Once we're in the hangar the first priority is to commandeer vehicles and use them on the Brotherhood. If you can't drive then ride shotgun you won't make it on foot, that's a given you have exactly ten minutes before those FEV canisters turn you into mutated freaks, so don't waste time! Let's roll!"

They all head left, toward the elevators, but I head right instead.

"Sir?"

"Don't worry Vito, I'll be right back." I assure.

I switch my package to the other shoulder.

Sure is fuckin' heavy.

The freight elevator stops and the large armored doors slowly part.

A trio of bullets squeeze trough the small opening and brain one of the recruits.

"Move! Come on, move you bastards!" I holler before charging toward the nearest jeep.

I throw my burden in the back of the car and unleash a few bursts in the panicked Brotherhood defenses.

On the other side of the hanger, almost a kilometer away, Talon Company is using Enclave fortification equipment like force fields and stationary turrets to secure their foothold with little losses while Spec. Ops. squads sneak in to steal vehicles.

From the sit rep the LT gave me on the way down, we have one tank, two jeeps and an APC already.

Most BoS Knights are already feeling the effects of FEV exposures; some of them are convulsing on the ground while others are clawing at their mutated flesh. One guy, pretty close to my position, is even clawing out his own eyes.

Darling jumps behind the wheel while a recruit handles the gun and I ride shotgun.

Looking out the windshield, I see a group of recruits jump in one of those antique tanks while the rest fills two APCs.

Bullets and lasers are starting to fill the air around us as the Brotherhood finally notices our presence.

"Come on, LT, get us out of the red zone, move it!"

"On it!"

The Jeep leaps forward while our gunner fires his .50CAL like his life depends on it.

It does.

A Paladin narrowly avoids getting crushed by our bumper, but I open my door just in time to hit him and send him rolling under our rear wheel.

"Oh that was sweet, sir!" Vito laughs without taking his eyes off the… road?

A white smoke trail appears to our left.

"RPG! Ten o'clo…" The LT swerves out of the way, but hit a crate, the impact sending our gunner face first in the asphalt.

At least we dodged the missile.

While the recruit gets back up, yelling at the LT all along, I jump from my seat and use the machine gun to take out the missile launcher.

"Move your ass or we're leaving you here, soldier!" I snap.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fucking coming." He growls.

As soon as he's in the passenger seat, we take off again.

My tooth are clattering inside my skull as I squeeze my fingers in the machine gun's triggers, spraying anything ahead of us with high caliber rounds.

"D-D-DIE YOU F-F-F-FUCKS!" I yell, the machine gun's vibration making me sound like some robot.

Bullets clatter around me, coming from somewhere behind.

"Enemy vehicle on our six!" I yell when I finally understand where all that lead is coming from.

The BoS Jeep is identical to ours, except with a closed cockpit.

"The fuck you want me to do about it?"

Good point. I push and shove until the machine gun is aimed at them and squeeze the triggers.

The whole world is now bullets and sparks as the Brotherhood's gunner and I compete to know who's going to get the lucky shot first.

Neither of us does; the other car gets rolled over by a tank; likely the one commandeered by our recruits.

The rest of the way to our troops is pretty clear; good thing too, the machine gun's dry.

Something heavy falls on my shoulder.

"HELP MEEEEEE!" The inhumane voice screeches, scorching my ear.

I head-butt whatever it is that assaulted me and throw it over my shoulder. It lands on the hood.

It's that scribe, from the prison; her flesh has almost completely melted away and arachnoids' limbs are growing from her torso with sickening wet sounds.

"Kill me… Fucking shoot me…" I put two bullets in her face and, with her last breath, she whispers; "Thank you."

My brain overheats pretty much at that moment.


	11. Heavy

**A/N: OMG, I almost forgot to thank you guys for za reviews :) It's nice to have an outside opinion when writing stuff (And to know someone out there's reading it) **

**Remember guys, they may not be as savage as Raiders, they are still Talon Company, so don't expect them to go all pinko on ya.**

**If someone pushes them, they beat the fuck out of him and steal his wallet, altough the Pride and Rangers will make them a little less ruthless. And expect one heck of a clash when they meet a faction with lowest morale standarts than they have and a strong desire to conquere or enslave all that stands on its path... Yeah, hinting on next chapter... I shouldn't; even I am not sure what I'll put in it :/**

_That morning, the rising sun was bathing the whole Wasteland in red, as if to hide the blood that had been spilled during the night. _

_Jericho looked at the kid, who was sitting on a rock wearing his vault jumpsuit, tinted black with coal, and cleaning his two .32 handguns. _

_His crew found him two years ago, shot in the head near that stadium but still well alive._

_Since the doc had to shave his head to prevent infections, Jericho took to calling the boy "Jarhead" although most of the crew used to call him Cold Eyes, on account of him always hiding his eyes from the sun._

_The boy earned himself some respect in the time he was with them, that's for damn sure, killed more than his share of wannabe heroes and Regulator fucks, he may have been young, but his anger and 'I do what I must and you can't judge me' attitude made him a full member of the gang for fucking life._

_Well, that was before the crew decided Jericho was too old to lead and had to be… replaced._

_They asked the kid if he would join them on their little plot, he said sure._

_He killed them all in their sleep and went to tell Jericho about what had happened._

_Damn kid took ten lives to save one, the whole logic of the thing was completely beyond Jericho, yet he didn't care, the boy was loyal and showed respect, which meant he was okay in his book._

"_What are you going to do now?" The kid asked, his young voice low and harsh, like a Deathclaw's growl._

" _I'll find a place to settle, retire." The Raider explained, glancing at the still fresh corpses of his crew. "I'm too old for this shit."_

_The kid just nodded and picked up his stuff, apparently getting ready to leave._

"_Where you going, Jarhead?"_

_The boy stopped and glanced at Jericho._

"_I'm going to kill Regulators; lots of them, and won't stop until either they're all dead or the bounty on my head reaches a hundred thousand caps. Then… Then I guess I'll become a Merc or some shit."_

_His voice was cold, furious… Hateful. _

_Jericho would never admit it, but that boy scared the living shit out of him._

_

* * *

_

Voices. Why won't they just leave me alone? I just want to be alone!

Lyons : Why isn't he waking up?

Butcher: Shock; whatever happened down there was just too much for him to take, his mind shut off.

Calico: When is he going to be operational again?

Butcher: Hours, days, weeks, months. Never. Human mind is an unpredictable thing.

Reilly: You mean he could stay like that forever!

Vito: Can't we do anything to help him?

Butcher: *Sigh* talking to him might help, I guess, outside stimulation should help bring his mind back to reality, but right now he just needs some rest, kid's still human, last weeks were exhausting to everyone.

You're fucking right they were.

Calico: Alright then, everyone get out, I'll stay here and make sure he's alright.

Friggin finally!

I'm about to drift back in my imaginary world where everything is more simple and I'm not in charge of a whole army, when she starts talking.

"Heh, you've come a long way, haven't you? When I first met you, you were some dirt covered NCO in a trench yelling pep talk to the boys; now you're some crazy Captain ready to risk his life and that of some of his best soldiers to go get one downed pilot, and ready to wipe anyone that fucks with you out of existence… What you did back there, it was the right thing to do, the most logical one; the Brotherhood would have tracked us down and killed us one by one.

Look, Cole, I…"

I feel something cold in my hand. When Calico resumes talking, her voice is shaky and strangled, like she's crying.

"Please wake up; I don't know what to do now, nobody does, even Sarah! "

She's right, I brought them here, I can't give up now; it's not just my life that's at stake.

The comfortable hole of memories that my mind was hiding in suddenly seems less appealing.

There's only death and echoes in there, out here I have friends and a future. Time to wake up.

I squeeze the Lieutenant's hand.

"Hey now, I'm not dead, just a little messed in the head." I whisper.

"Jared!" She yelps, giving me a bear hug.

God damnit that woman is stronger than a Yao Guai!

"Calico…"

"Uh?"

"You're crushing me."

"Oh! Sorry, sir…" She clears her throat and regain her composure.

I'm in my room again, all the lights are out and the door's open.

I pull myself into a sitting position and the light from the hallway shines in my eyes.

Oh my god, my head is going to explode!

I yelp and pull the pillow to my face, causing the lieutenant to jump from her chair.

"What's wrong!"

"Shunglashes." I growl.

"Uh?"

"Sunglashes!"

I extend my hand and wait for her to catch up.

She gives me my tactical goggles instead, but hey, at least now I can see without felling like a super mutant is pounding away at my brain.

I sigh in relief and ask her to give me a sit rep.

"We're heading South West, away from Brotherhood territory. Their main base may be in ruins and their forces in disarray, but the Outcasts think they have many more bunkers in the area and that their chain of command will take just a few days to heal up."

Figures. Yet it's a good thing; the Brotherhood probably keeps this area safe, with all their firepower, no raider gang could stand up to them. They're not a bad bunch, our philosophies just put us at odds.

"The twins?"

"We dropped them at the nearest town before they woke up… The LT told me what happened, why did you go back to save them anyway?"

Merc honor, again.

"Repaid a dept."

She does not comment further, but gives me a piercing look.

I often forget she's eight years older than me and has that much more experience… and that shows in her eyes; they always look sad, not depressive, but the kind of sadness you feel when you remember your childhood, melancholy, I think it's called. Yet that's just the façade, behind that, you can see her brain always working at full capacity. There is also that semi-evil spark that gives you a feeling she's always going to pull a prank on you.

"Anything else I should know about… Uh… What's your first name anyway?" That was dumb, almost sounded like I was hitting on her… I'm not hitting on her, right? Why's my face burning like that?

"It's Ileana." Why couldn't she have a normal name? Like Meg, or Jill?

I give it a try: "Eli-Anna?"

"Just call me Eli." She scoffs.

That's better!

"So, Eli, anything else I should know?"

He face becomes serious again.

"Yeah, I thought it might interest you; we now have two Tanks, three APCs and five Jeeps. We captured much more but most of it got blown to pieces in the fire-fight. We lost twelve guys in the battle.

Also, you must know, all of your new recruits were exposed to FEV; suits weren't airtight, ten of them died or had to be killed because they were gone crazy, but the remaining twenty are lucid, some did not retain a high level of intelligence, but they still want to work with us.

What are you thinking? You have that look about you you get when you're about to pull some miracle."

I have an idea alright, it's there and all, something about power armor, Enclave fortification equipment, mutant and tank, but I really can't give a shape to it yet.

"I must talk to Sydney."

Eli frowns.

"She's on the Cargo…"

"Who's our quartermaster here then?"

"Walkers."

Shit.

"Alright" I push myself on my feet. "Go get someone from the motor pool, the First Airborne maintenance crew and the recruits, tell them to meet me in the supply depot." The world is spinning around me and Eli's small but strong hands catch me just as my legs betray me. "I'm alright, go."

She seems worried, but does as I ask.

* * *

Well, that's a somewhat funny sight.

Walkers is sitting on top of a few duraframe plates, in the northern corner of the room, the six Outcast specialists are scattered around and are bitching about some thing or another, the Enclave technical team –Squad Bravo- stands in the other side of the room, looking curious.

Calico is standing next to me and the recruits, still looking tired from their transformation, are sitting in the middle of the room…

I've never seen super mutants like them; blue skinned Overlords of some kind.

"So, what d'you wanna do exactly, mungo?" Walkers shoot from his vantage point.

I nod toward a rack filled with T-45d Power Armors. "Take these apart and use the servos plus the duraframe plates to make a Super Mutant sized Power Armor."

The recruits all smile at that. Power Armored Super Mutants; has a ring to it, doesn't it?

Romeo, squad Bravo's leader, steps forward. "We're already working on something."

Yeah, they couldn't fucking ask me in person so they'll just fuck themselves and wait until I'm done with them!

"It's not a priority, soldier, I want to be able to field at least one of these big guys should the Brotherhood counter-attack, we'll need some good anti-armor counter-measures."

"But I don'…"

Oh! I get it, Enclave guy doesn't trust Super Mutants! Kinda makes sense, I mean, they were an anti-mutation organization after all.

"This is not open to discussion, soldier, I need your team to work on the suit's electronics while the Outcasts take care of the mechanics and armor plating, this is not a proposition, its an order and you WILL obey, am I understood?" I bark, using the same tone as I do during the morning drills.

He snaps into a salute.

"Sir, yes, sir! My apologies, Sir!"

Good boy.

"Now play nice kids, Calico, tell me if anything comes up." I say, turning around to leave the room.

"Where are you going, Captain?" Calico shoots back behind me.

"Get some grub and then some sleep. Don't wake me unless you have something to say important enough to make me forget about killing you, alright?"

"Got it."

Uh… Where the fuck is my room again?


	12. Whispers and Shadows Pt1

**A/N: 1: Most Super Mutant retained normal intelligence, since they had medical supervision to prevent the pain from making them nuts, but ¼ of them lost a bit of their cognitive abilities because of their brain's restructuration. **

**2:No, they are not Nightkins, but their west coast counterpart **

**3And Thanks dude, now I just can't wait to send them on the field, that's gonna be a lot of fun to write. :D**

Somewhere over Denver, Colorado.

5 Days after the Vault 0 incident.

Rather that actually sleeping, I decide to read a bit.

I don't have that many books; just that one written by B. Montgomery about the Anchorage Reclamation; _'And They All Come Tumbling Down'_ , one about a man known as the Vault Dweller, titled '_You Have To Leave' , _and some kind of Wasteland Survival Guide, written by Moira Brown and Kelly.

I grab the one about Anchorage and choose a random page. I read it twice already, so it doesn't really matters.

_-…colonel's disdain was not caused by the fact Power Armors are, at best, a lousy replacement for Combat Armors as much as the fact that the brass used them as separate units where their, quite limited, advantages became obvious and their weaknesses as well, when using them in pair with us G.I.s would help compensate each-other's lacks. _

_General Chase, however, seemed to think us ground pounders would only get in the way of his precious Power Armor Troopers._

_That particular unit, who's commander was now caught in a heated argument with Colonel Patterson, seemed to believe they were invincible; standing in the open without paying much attention to their surroundings while I had my troops crawl around in the snow to avoid getting jumped by Chinese snipers. They seemed to laugh at our lack of real equipment._

_Of course, they found it a lot less funny when a Red with one of these Gauss Rifles popped the head off their commander._

_The Colonel ordered us to take cover, even though we already were behind cover._

_Thinking back, I think he was talking to the Power Armor Troopers. Didn't make that much of a difference, since they all went charging at the camp like a bunch of savages._

_I asked the Colonel what to do and he simply shook his head._

"_They're already dead; dumb motherfuckers."_

_Indeed, the battle was over barely twenty seconds later. Minefield._

_Gotta give it to those Commies, they knew their shit._

_So, while the boys were deciding of guard duties, I simply called HQ to tell them their unit had fought valiantly but, in the end, it was not enough._

_Dumb motherfuckers deserved it.-_

This book is a real geyser of military knowledge and advices, most of my tactics and doctrines come from it.

I don't know how much time passes as I read about the different types of troubles Montgomery found himself in during Anchorage; tank battles, failed air drops, minefields, blocked supply lines, intel leaks and general ineptitude of 'the brass'.

That's one of the thing that makes us private contractors much better than governments when it comes to military operations; our command structure is simple, our boys are very well trained, we have lots of budgets and we don't have to worry about political repercussions.

Simply put, we strike fast, hard and dirty.

Someone knocks at the door and my hearth skips a beat.

Fuck, it better be important!

"Yeah, what is it!" I snap.

A raspy voice answers.

"Captain Cole? I am Lydia Verones, one of your new recruits, I wanted to talk to you…"

A female super mutant? Shit must be hard on her, well harder than it is on the others.

"Sure, come in." I call, more softly.

"Sir, I'm afraid I won't fit in there, would you mind coming out…"

I laugh at the Super Mutant's unease and jump from my bed.

"Alright, Verones, what did you want to talk about?" I ask, opening my door.

The huge blue skinned woman is standing in the middle of the hallway, five steps from my door, her hypertrophied muscles keeping her arms away from her body.

"You see, captain, I understand the logic of using our strength and endurance to create walking tanks, but I believe I might be much more useful as an advisor of sort."

Hmm… I read report about what FEV does to people, it can make you go insane, but also boosts your brain cells or some shit, so I think I understand what she's getting at.

"Why is that?"

She shift her weight from one leg to another, seeming uncomfortable.

I try to read her face, but mutant features are just way to hard to read. Always look angry.

"Well, I might be wrong, although I doubt it, but I noticed I was able to think faster and… Let's say 'deeper', since I… changed."

"So you believe your cognitive activity has grown beyond human norms?"

She nod.

"Ask me a question."

"You know pi?" I ask with a grin.

"Yes."

"Up to how many decimals?"

"3.14159265358…"

Ho-fucking-ly Shit!

"Enough, you're hired, you'll serve as a supervisor, I tell you the plan, you coordinate the units and make sure everything stays on track, how's that sound?"

She nod vigorously.

"Good! What unit will I be affected to?"

"None, you'll work with Calico, go see her and tell her to take care of… Whatever needs taking care of."

"Ok, thank you sir." She goes to leave, but I stop her first.

"Hey, before you go, how are the Super Mutants Power Armor model coming?"

"Very expensive, the Outcast guys are going crazy about having to sacrifice all those armor to make just one suit."

"They'll get over it. What do you think?"

She scratches her chin.

"Power armors will make us much stronger and tougher, but that would be what you could call 'overkill' simple armor plates would suffice in making us a threat to anything not carrying a rocket launcher and would be much cheaper to produce..."

Yeah, I might just do that, but I'll wait until I see the prototype before making my decision.

"That'll be a…"

"Captain!"

It's the Pride's sniper… Dawn? Twilight… Dusk!

"Yes, Knight Captain?" I answer, nodding to Lydia.

The Super Mutant leaves me alone with the sniper.

"Sir, I'm requesting permission to go on a personal mission in an area nearby."

Personal mission? What the fuck?

"Drop the sir, Dusk, you don't answer to me, although I am your employer and, as such, you are right to ask me permission before going, and I thank you for it; now, what is this mission about?"

The power armored woman growls in annoyance.

"It's personal…"

"Then I can not authorize you to carry it out, I will not risk having you start a war or commit crimes in our names."

Personal my ass!

"Look… Okay, I'll tell you." Good, now I'll know what I'm about to refuse. "Outcasts radio guy picked up a transmission from a group called 'the Legion'; they are planning to attack a pretty large human settlement, almost two thousand peoples. When I say attack, I mean it; they received orders to kill or enslave everyone!" She takes a deep breath. Boy is she pissed.

" I want to kill the man in charge of that Legion Task Force, a man named Caius, Centurion Caius, or whatever."

"What experience do you have in covert operations?" I growl.

"I'm a sniper..." She begins.

"A power armored, .308 shooting sniper, what do you actually know about stealth?"

"Look," She hiss, "I know my job, okay, I'm the best at what I do!"

"Sure, but that op your planning has nothing to do with what you usually do, it's about sneaking in a zone crawling with tangos to fire one shot and go all the way back to the LZ with angry Mike Foxtrots running after you, do you have any experience in that kind of stuff?"

She tilts her helmet to the side.

"Do you?"

Oh no, she's not going to drag me into some crazy suicide mission.

"A bit, but I'm a lousy sniper at best."

"Then you'll have to come with me and show me how its done."

..Fuck.

"Alright, I'll burrow ghillie suits to First Recon guys and I'll get you a more discreet rifle, you get us some Recon Armor to wear underneath and something with enough power to kill a man at extreme distances, sounds good?"

She nods.

"Uhm…"

"Yes?"

"What's a ghillie suit?"

Fucking amateur.


	13. Whispers and Shadows Pt2

**A/N: Huge one o_O! Needed to cut it in two or I wouldn't have been able to post now :S**

**God And The Snake: Actually, from what I understand, it adds the servos' strength to that of the user (+2 Strength) and they must use four armors' hydraulics and stuff for it to be useful to a mutie… Anyway, I suppose the Outcasts will find a way to make it work xD. P.S. Glad you liked it, there's a lot more coming ^^**

**Sidetracked Productions: No problem dude, glad you like the story.**

**You're right, California is going to be lots of fun to write.**

**Thank you both for reviewing and everyone else for reading! **

**

* * *

**

150 kilometers West of Denver.

8 hours later.

Vertibird One.

The Sniper and I are both clad in our brown ghillie suits, made out of Regulator dusters.

I'm holding a modified R-91 assault rifle, with ACOG scope, recoil absorbing stock and silencer; the whole thing is covered with bands of brown fabric.

She preferred a Hunting rifle with the exact same accessories as me, except the scope is 2x-6x and she modified the receiver and firing mechanism to receive R-91 styled 5.56 ammo clips.

Time to go over the details.

"Alright, Dawn…"

"Dusk."

"Whatever, for this mission, you're Delta and I'm Cain.

We will be dropped six clicks north of the Legion camp, its in what used to be Glenwood springs, the terrain there is said to be a big irradiate swamp, so I brought lots of Rad-X and Radaway, that means you'll be carrying all the spare ammo, try to keep it dry, if you can.

The target is scheduled to arrive in the next days, so we'll have plenty of time to find a good vantage point.

Now, the Legion seems to patrol the whole sector, so keep it tight and don't let your guard down, if they get too close, get down and let your suit do the work. I had some assholes walk on me with it once and never notice me, and that was in the wastes. If it comes to close elimination, you just stand back and let me take care of it.

It's not some macho shit, I was trained in close quarter combat, you weren't, I won't risk my ass on some feeling of invincibility you might have.

Now as far as infiltration goes, you do what I say when I say it and everything should go smoothly. When it comes to sniping, you tell me what to do and I'll take care of it. Question?"

Her annoyance makes me smile behind my balaclava.

"Yeah, why the fuck am I wearing sea weeds?"

"Camouflage. "

"You sure it's a swamp down there? The world never struck me as the green and lush paradise type…"

Heh, she's right about that, it's not the pleasant kind of lush down there.

"Rads killed most trees, but it's benefic to lichens and fungus, and this area seemed to become very wet for some reason, so they grew exponentially since the war, coating the whole area in sticky green slime."

She shudder.

"All the more reason to wear airtight power armor. Plus, those suits aren't even green."

"Don't worry, it'll come."

"It's disgusting!"

"Yup. You wanted to do that op."

She double checks her gear.

Conversation's over.

"Lydia, do you read?"

"Hey little brother, sorry, can't talk now, mum and dad are listening, I'll radio in after you've ran your errands, okay?"

"Alright then, thanks."

I turn to Delta.

"Legion is intercepting our transmissions, radio silence."

"Got it. Wait, I don't even have a radio."

"Even better."

She pulls up her balaclava just to stick out her tongue on me then pull it back down.

"What rifle are you going to use to take the shot?"

She grabs a long camouflaged duffel bag from under her seat and opens it, showing me the Gauss Rifle inside. It seems larger than the ones the Midwest Brotherhood was using and has a large scope on it.

"Good choice."

"Alpha One," the pilot announces, "We're at drop coordinates, no place to land so you'll have to fast rope it down. Clear?"

"Crystal, buddy, you just make sure you're ready to pluck us out of there once it gets nasty."

"Wouldn't want to miss seeing your faces after days crawling down there, I'll be in the mountains, to the north, listening to the radio 24/7, you call, I come running."

I nod and open the hatch.

Yuck, that smell!

I toss a bottle of Rad-x to the sniper and take one myself.

"Cain?" Delta whispers.

"Yes?"

"Did I mention I hated you?"

I smile and hit a button on the side of the winch, like the LT told me to do.

A long black rope with a hook at an extremity lowers all the way to the ground, the hook disappearing under what would look to be grass, but is actually fungus covered water.

"Got any experience in fast roping?" I ask Delta.

"No."

"Me neither." I admit.

With that, I grab the rope, wrap my leg and arm around it, holding as hard as possible, then step out of the Vertibird.

"Sir," Delta laughs "You actually need to descend."

"Fuck you."

I release my grip a bit and slowly move down, going trough the canopy of fungus growing on burned trees .

Well it seems slow to me, but I am still stunned by the impact once I reach the ground.

Oh, this is gross!

I ignore the feeling of thick sticky water that smells like shit around my leg and do a 360 degree scan of my surroundings.

This place reminds me of point lookout, in its own unique way; some milky-white fog hides the ground at places, thick vines are hanging off dead trees, insects are buzzing around and everything is eerie silent, except for the roaring of the Vertibird above me, that is.

There's a 'Splotch' when Delta lands.

She moans in disgust but doesn't comment.

I signal her to follow me with one hand, rifle in the other.

We move deeper in the swamps as the VB-02's sounds die off in the distance. Then, the only sound is the soft whisper of water as it is forced away by our legs.

"Take in your surroundings," I recite, remembering what my instructor used to tell me. "Find out what this places looks, feels, smells, sounds and tastes like and then try to imitate it as best you can. Be on the lookout for anything that doesn't fit it; a color, a noise, an odor, anything."

"Fucking voodoo shit." She growl.

We got a long walk ahead of us.

* * *

5 kilometers from target.

Night comes without warning in this place and the moon doesn't provide that much lighting.

Not a problem to me, I just take off my glasses and I can see just fine, but Delta needs Night-Vision Goggles or something to see anything. Fortunately, she asked the motor pool to give her something for just that kind of problem.

They gave her P-00 'Peekers', like those used in Anchorage's reclamation; looks somewhat like standard tactical goggles, but bigger, more rigid and with two buttons on the side.

She puts them on and we get moving again.

We don't have time to take two steps before something moves, five meters ahead of us.

I lift my fist and she freezes.

I can't see her, but I can feel approximately where she is standing; five steps behind, on my right.

Signaling Delta to go prone and kneeling so that only the top half of my body is over the water, I narrow my eyes and try to find out what's been moving.

There's no wind and everything is as still as a picture. Trees, rocks, vines, fungus, nothing is moving.

Yet I _know_ it's out there.

That mossy rock there, something's not right about it; too symmetric, too perfect.

Swamplurk.

I motion the sniper to follow me and head left to go around the predator.

Nice and slow now, stay low. I repeat myself, wishing I could tell that to Delta.

Good thing this swamp smells so much 'cause I'm sweating like day one at boot camp.

We reach a spot where there is no water and need to crawl trough the sticky green stuff. Crawling is not hard, trying to look like a vegetable while crawling, however, is.

We reach another spot of shallow water and return to an almost comfortable prone position.

We keep moving until there are twenty meters and lots of trees between us and the 'Lurk.

"Good," I breath, barely above a whisper. "Very good, Delta, you're a natural."

She does not answer, but I can see she's proud.

I glance around, looking for a dry spot where vegetation could provide a good cover, and find one around seven meters to the south-east.

From what I can see, the seaweed-like fungus formed a large dome-shaped cavity -well, large enough for a man to stand in it- but barely noticeable in all that green.

"We'll camp in there for the rest of the night." I announce, earning an annoyed sigh.

"Why? I'm not that tired and neither do you seem to be."

"We don't know when we will be able to rest again; sleep is a weapon, more battle have been lost because of lack of sleep than ammo."

She nods slowly.

"There is sense in your words… Let's rest; I'll take first guard."

* * *

My dreamless sleep is interrupted by a rough shove.

"Cain."

My eyes snap open, going from sleep to fully awake in a heartbeat.

I wish the rest of my body would do too, my arms and legs are stiff and seem to weight a ton.

"My turn?"

The sniper nods in the darkness and I sit up, rifle on my laps, while she lie down.

Strangely, I feel somewhat happy, crawling in the mud, avoiding hostiles camping in the darkness.

I miss the Point Lookout contract, I guess.

That was my first job as a Merc, take out the motel manager, dismantle his little slaver organization find his missing family.

See, the guy ran the only motel in all Point Lookout and our customer's son and wife had taken a room in it.

Why, when, with who? That really wasn't my business; I was just to kill the man and the Swampfolks working with him, then find the boy and woman and bring them back to the Duchess Gambit.

I had been working with a girl named Carolina Red who served as a representative of the customer on the field; I was supposed to do everything she told me.

Mean bitch that one… Didn't keep her from trying to get me in her bed. I think she took the part where I had to follow her lead a bit too seriously…

Still, she never sounded like a worried friend of the family to me, as I was told, more like some slaver bitch or something…

In any events, I did my job, dismantled the whole organization, pretended not to know Tobar, the ferryman, was involved, since I was ordered to leave him alone by Red, found the two VIPs in some sacrifice room or something and left Red to take care of them.

Never herd of any of those three after. I stayed at Point lookout for a while, taking on side contracts for some old ghoul bastard who, in turn, taught me more things about fighting and tactics than I had in six weeks at boot camp…

I glance at my watch.

I've been lost in my thoughts for an hour now.

Oh shit!

I pick a pack of Radaway out of my bag and plug the IV in my wrist, having to try it twice, since I missed the vein the first time.

Holding the first one with my mouth, I take another pack and give Delta a light shove.

"Hmm?"

She turns and see what I'm doing.

"Fuck." Is the only answer I get, apart from an extended wrist.

She falls asleep ten seconds after I plugged the IV.

Guess I'll have to hold both packs, uh?

How can she sleep while having that shit pumped in her body?

Personally, I feel like a rampaging Brahmin went trough me.

Another hour passes and the only interesting thing to report is that a Giant Mantis got eaten by a Swamplurk right by the 'shelter's' entrance.

Then, I hear the screams.

* * *

Glenwood Springs' outskirts.

"Cain, we need to do something." Delta whispers.

Down the hill we are hiding on, roughly thirty meters away, where the swamp and rubbles are mixing together, are six purple-clad men tacking another man to cross shaped 2x4s while a girl around fifteen and a woman old enough to be her mother are forced to watch.

"We need to think about the mission; and even if we helped them now, there are Legion troops all over this area, they won't make it out alive."

How she manage to get a pleading tone while whispering is beyond me, but she is pretty convincing...

"We need to try…"

Ugh…

"Look, I got two Stealth Boys from the motor pool, we can take out the guards give them to the women and they'll see themselves out; but that mean that we'll have to fight and hide all the way to the LZ; these are going to be the worst minutes of your life. What do you say?"

"Do it." She answers without any hesitation.

I find myself admiring the sniper's determination.

"Okay, you stay here and provide sniper support if things go wrong. I'll go down there and pick them out one by one."

"Understood."

She shoulders her rifle and peek trough the scope, going from one's head to another's.

While she's doing that, I slowly crawl down the hill, inch by inch, getting closer to my targets. After a minute, the man has stopped screaming. Looking up, I see the cross has been lifted to a vertical position.

Crucifixion, like Romans.

Ten meters from the first target, an idiot who's standing away and out of sight from the group; I reach a shallow water pond and cross it with extreme precautions.

Five meters; I finally emerge from the pond drawing my Trench knife and holding it in my mouth to leave my hands free.

Two meters; I slowly raise myself to my knee, knife now in hand.

Stabbing time.

I'm on the guy's right, if I make a sudden movement, he'll see me and alert the others; I need to wait until I'm out of his field of vision.

He turns and looks straight at me for a few seconds before turning back to the crucified man.

He chuckles with amusement.

"Dissolute passed out…" He laughs to himself.

One second later, a gloved hand is holding his mouth shut and a large blade is severing his spine at the base of his neck.

Instant death.

I slowly drag the body in the pond and cover it with fungus.

Two of his comrades meet the same fate. Only then do the remaining three realize something is off.

I took a pretty short, leathery rope from one of the Legion boys, probably used to tie up captives.

That's pretty much what I plan to use it for.

One of the targets, wearing a dog's head as a hood, walks between my hiding spot and a dead pine tree.

I jump to my feet, tackle him against the tree and wrap the rope around the tree and his neck -so tight it cuts in his flesh- before disappearing in the woods.

His panicked gargles quickly attract the other two, but they arrive way too late to help.

They still decide to untie him, which, while one is busy with the rope, gives me plenty of time to slash the other's throat off.

The man jumps in horror when his friend's body falls next to him.

He draws some sort of big knife and looks around, clearly terrified, although I can't see his face because of his weird fluffy helmet.

"Show yourself, Demon!"

I slowly step out of the darkness, knife in hand.

"Who are you!" He hisses.

I'm giving you a fighting chance, dickhead, I'm not looking to tell you my life story.

I stay quiet and slowly circle him.

"Answer me! What do you want!"

I lunge forward, aiming at his throat and he sidesteps my attack.

My feet slip on the slimy floor and I roll to avoid loosing my balance.

"You think you can defeat me in single combat, profligate?" He growls, "I am one of Kaisar's Decanus!"

He attacks, aiming at my guts and leaving his neck and head defenseless.

One slash later, he's drowning in his own blood.

"Profligate… Dissolute… Kaisar… Decanus." I mutter as I toss the two Stealth Boys to the terrified girls.

"Get out of here." I order when I see them hesitate.

"Manny…" The elder whines.

"Run!" I snap, "Before I decide to cut you up too!"

They get the fuck out.

I walk to the guy, Manny, and asses the damages.

Broken bones, blood loss, shock… He won't make it, and if he does, he'll be eaten by a Swamplurk quickly enough.

On bullet later, I'm sure he's not suffering anymore.

Delta emerges from the swamps a bit after.

"Thanks."

I'm not sure if it was the wind or her, but that doesn't really matter, does it?

I unroll my tactical map and motion for her to come closer.

"See the U shaped building there?" She recites, "That's the Colorado Hotel, we'll be set up there. The Legion main camp is next to that bridge, in another hotel, hotel Denver, the Centurion's camp is set up there."

Oh-kay.

"How do you know all this?"

"I lied, we didn't intercept any transmission, but herd a distress signal from members of some kind of resistance, I established contact with them while you were still recovering from whatever happened in the bunker and again when you were asleep, apparently they got caught when returning into town this time."

"Those peoples we helped…"

"Were resistant."

Shit, I don't like this.

"So they gave you all those intel out of kindness of their hearth?"

"No, they will launch an attack right after I take the shot… You are mad, aren't you?"

I'm not really angry, but this changes everything, not the mission itself, but the repercussions…

"No. Lie to me again and I kill you myself."

And, with that, I head toward the ruins of the Hotel.


	14. Whispers and Shadows Pt3

**A/N: Shorter one, much action coming in the next chapter :) **

**Sidetracked Productions: Thanks! I wasn't sure what peoples would think about the stealth part :/ **

**Glad you liked it, I got one or two more chapters like that to do :D**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing, it's good to know I ain't working for nothing ^^**

Glenwood Springs

2 blocks away from Hotel Colorado.

"Hold… Hold…" The Legionaries who were talking to each others head their separate way, leaving a two meter blind spot in their patrol pattern. "Move."

We both leap from behind the wrecked car and pass so close to the two men we could have touched them.

I roll under an old military truck parked in the middle of the street and Delta reaches me shortly after.

We hold our breath for a few seconds.

Not yelling, no shooting, no orders, everyone is just going about their boring patrol.

Twelve men patrolling one street that's not even near their camp; how many troops do these bastards have?

There are a few ruined apartments around and many wrecked car, but beyond the thirty centimeters thick slimy weeds that covers the asphalt I really can't find any good cover.

"We'll have to crawl trough them, slowly; we're not in a rush. Anticipate their path and maneuver to avoid it. Slow and steady." I mutter, my voice lower than a whisper.

She nods once.

I start crawling trough the weeds, keeping my eyes on the Legion boys.

I'm eight meters from the truck when one of them suddenly decides to change his path and go see what that weird trail is.

It's the weeds I couldn't avoid to crush; damn things aren't getting their original shape as fast as normal grass.

I practically hug the floor while he investigates, walking on my hand twice.

He then shrugs it off as another local weirdness and resumes his vigilant patrol.

Only problem is, he's looking for peoples hiding behind objects or standing in the distance, not crawling at his feet.

I resume my painfully slow advance.

Twenty meters further, on the western side of the street, is an old military convoy… And more Legion troops on patrol.

I imitate some local insect's stridulation, pretty poorly, to indicate my position to Delta, another similar sound answers me somewhere close by to my right.

Perfect.

"Trucks." I whisper.

A Legionary walks between us and we wait until he's at a safe distance to resume moving.

We need to act like veggies twice on our way, since Legion boys become suspicious, but finally reach the relatively safe tunnel provided by the line of vehicle. Once we're there, we can afford to crawl a bit faster and quickly reach the end of the convoy.

"I can see the hotel from here, six tangos on our way. We'll wait for an opening and make a run for that big fence; once we're past it, we should have a clear run to the Hotel. Clear?"

" Clear."

Their patrol patterns are pretty chaotic, but there's some logic in it, it was made so that there is always one of them looking in every direction at every moment. However, this is just the doctrine behind the application, in the facts the guys are sloppy, often just staring at something for a few seconds then resuming their patrol.

On an individual scale, this is benign, but it messes up the whole patrol's timing.

Leaving opportunities like that one right there where everyone ends up bunched up in one spot.

"Move."

I pull myself out using the bumper for support and break into a sprint, closely followed by Delta.

I leap over a wrecked car and slide to a stop next to the three meters tall, fungus-covered fence.

Delta arrives shortly after and presses herself against it, waiting for my next instruction.

"I'll give you a boost, don't go over it right away, keep hanging to it for a few seconds; I'll use you to give myself a boost."

One short nod and I kneel next to her, forming a step with my hands.

She puts her foot on it and I push her all the way up.

Once she's found a good hold, I grab her belt and pull myself up as well, grabbing the top… Fuck.

Footsteps behind us. One of the Legionaries must have herd something or seen a movement and came to investigate.

I freeze, half my weight resting on Delta's belt, the other half on the three fingers I managed to wrap around the fence. The slow, careful footsteps get closer every second.

You can't see us, purple boy; we're just another weird thing hanging off the fence, we're not there… Fuck my arm is killing me!

Sweat starts trickling along my neck, tickling me and adding to my discomfort.

The Legion boy is now right behind us; I can hear him breath, I can _smell _him.

Guy doesn't shower often, apparently.

Delta starts shaking next to me.

She's got her weight and my own to hold…

My arm is going numb. Not good.

The Legionary turns and walk away.

Delta and I both pull at the same time, ending up sprawled on the irradiated grass.

I take a few seconds to catch my breath and get up to a crouch.

"Move."

I pull the sniper to her feet.

"Shit."

I reach the Hotel's service entrance first and put my hand on the doorknob, my rifle held firmly in the other.

Delta arrives shortly after and takes position behind me, watching my back.

I open the door, slowly.

Something's moving in there…

I ram my shoulder in the door and quickly scan the room.

Employees room, a bench in the middle, lockers on both sides and a dog near the right lockers, a large husky that yelps in fright at the noise.

We stare at each others for a while, not daring to move.

He doesn't growl, but its fur is all tousled and its ears are flattened against its head. Attack attitude.

I kneel slowly and its ears perk back up, hesitantly.

Delta enters the room and freezes upon seeing the animal.

The dog, deciding he doesn't like having so many peoples around, slowly backs away in a vent shaft, disappearing a few seconds after.

"Making new friends?"

"As long as it's not new enemies, I'm happy."

"Roger that. Let's find a room, shall we?"

I nod.

"You go ahead, I got a few things to take care of."

Glenwood Springs

Hotel Colorado.

3rd floor.

Room 89

Delta is sleeping on what's left of the bed when I come back from my little solo op, dressed like a Legionary. She took off most of her gear, except the Recon Armor (Aka military Pajama). For some reason, I had expected her to be… different; she got short black hairs -that stick to her scalp because of the humidity- and somewhat Asian or Eurasian features.

I put my right index finger against her forehead.

"Bang, you're dead."

Her eyes open wide and she looks at me in horror.

I smile, lowering my hand, and she realizes it's me.

"You stupid moron!" She yells, kicking me in the ribs.

I put the finger to my lips.

"Shh… Come over here, I got something to show you."

We both go to the window, making sure the sun doesn't reveal our faces.

"So, what is it?"

"First things first, you see that flag pole, there, at the end of the bridge?"

She fetches her rifle and peek trough the scope.

"Yup… I didn't notice it had a flag on it earlier, where is it coming from?"

"I put it there. It's a Legion flag, so nobody took notice."

She nods.

"Why?"

"Help you anticipate bullet trajectory, it's right next to the Centurion's tent. The big one, in the middle."

"Got it… Wait, how do you know?"

Hehe, she's not the only one who knows how to get intels.

"You see how I'm dressed right now?"

"Uh… Yeah…"

"Do the math. Anyways, the Target is already here, it is wearing a patchwork of different armors, most notably T-51b sleeves, can't miss it. From what I heard, he only leaves his tent at nine to go to the baths; you can take him out then.

Once you've taken the shot, we'll evacuate the area and try to stay in the shadows. If somebody spots us, I'll detonate the charges I planted on the bridge and we'll hurry our asses to the exfil on the junction of linden and 6th street."

"So, six hours left until we can get a shot, uh… What should we do?"

I shrug "I don't know, got any idea?"

"Well…" She smiles deviously. "I tried the bed and it's pretty comfortable, like you said, rest is a weapon, maybe we should relax a bit… "

I saw that one coming before she even thought about it.

"Great idea, you get some sleep; I'll wake you up when it's time."

She pouts.

"You're no fun, Cain."

"Fun can wait until after we complete the mission."

She gets her smile back.

"That a proposition?"

"Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir."


	15. Taking the Shot

**A/N: Somewhat long chapter; and in advance too :D **

**God and the Snake: Not volountarily, but I replayed the game today and I suppose you're right, the scenes were pretty similar.**

**Hope your headache gets better :S**

**Sidetracked productions: Never said he was dressed as legion when he planted them. And I'm still debating if I want him to enguage a relationship or not :/**

**Thanks for reviewing guys! **

Eight o'clock.

"Delta, wake up."

"Hmm?"

"Time to work."

"Alright." She groans, getting up and grabbing her gear.

It takes her ten minutes to get her ghillie suit back on and her sniping position in place. I've already put my own suit on, not long after she fell asleep.

Then, we both lie down on the room's balcony, pretending to be just another bit of fungus, and wait.

"You hungry?" I ask, remembering I have some MREs in my pack.

She nod and I toss her one of the airtight bags, taking one for myself.

It's actually just Noodles, dried fruits, Purified Water (Although I managed to get us Nuka-Cola instead) and Brahmin jerky packed in a recycled chips bag sealed with melted rubber.

I tear mine open and begin chewing on the jerky while Delta drinks her Cola.

"So," I begin after ten minutes. "You guys were exiled from the Brotherhood…"

"Yeah…"

"Why?"

She sighs before answering:

"They got… Overzealous after our elder's death; wanted to purge the Wastes of every form of evil and crime… Not just bad persons, mutants too. In our book, that's called genocide and we don't … Target sighted."

I swallow my half chewed bite and peek in my ACOG.

Yup, T-51b sleeves with sporting equipment; hard to miss.

The guy's face is also hidden by some sort of hockey mask, from what I can see, he stands right in front of his tent, yelling at one of his subordinates about the flag.

"Taking the shot?" I ask her.

"Waiting for the wind to die down."

"Can't you compensate for it?"

"Unreliable without necessary equipment. We can't afford to miss."

Heh, that's right, after dragging our asses all the way here, it would be pretty disappointing; then again, half of my assassination missions ended with me having to crawl back to camp without a having fired a single shot. Customers wimp out most of the time.

The Centurion is still yelling at his subordinate when Delta whispers "Taking the shot."

Then, his hockey mask cave in and the back of his head bursts like a rotten tomato.

The corpse flies in the tent, blood spraying the subordinate.

An alarm sounds somewhere and the Legionaries go nuts, searching the camp for the assassin.

"Pack up and get ready to move; we got thirty seconds." I announce, slowly crawling back in the room to stand watch next to the door.

She takes ten seconds to put the rifle back in its bag, six to crawl into the room and three to reach the door.

We're about to leave when my radio goes live "Alpha one, this is Vertibird One, radio chatter indicates you have been compromised, recommend you EVAC ASAP and send me your coordinates for exfil."

"Vertibird One, this is Alpha One, we copy, we're on our way now, we'll transmit coordinates once we're there, be ready. Oh, and tell Vertibird Two to get the biggest, meanest motherfuckers she can find and be ready to drop off back ups, we might need it."

"Wilco."

A loud noise out the window attracts my attention. Not an explosion, something mechanical… Fat Man launcher.

"INCOMING!" Delta leaps out of the room, but I am not fast enough and get hit by what could very well be a fucking tank.

* * *

I can hear the firefight, but can't see anything.

"Cain! Cain, wake up! We got to move!"

Oh man, my leg hurts!

"Cain! Snap out of it!"

I open my eyes and blink repeatedly to clear my vision.

Delta is right over me, kneeling next to a door, firing her 5.56 rifle outside.

A few shots echo in response.

Let's see that leg now…

Shit, not good; it's bleeding all over and bent in an odd angle. Probably got crushed.

A Stimpack later, the bleeding stops, but there's no way I can walk with that.

"Vertibird One and Two, we need those back ups and that EVAC at our location immediately! Can't throw a smoke, just follow the gunfire!"

"Lots of shoulder mounted AA munitions in the area, we need to be careful; ETA, two minutes; we'll touchdown in the streets and take off after thirty seconds; can't risk any longer."

"Delta!" She doesn't hear me. "Delta! We need to go; NOW!"

"You can't walk with your leg like that!" She answers, between two shots.

"Then fucking drag my ass!" I look around, we're in the employees' room. "There's a door on the back of the building leading to the spa!" I drag myself to my pack, two meters away, and take out some duct tape, six fishing ropes and just as many grenades. "Close that door and bring me to this one!" I yell, nodding toward the door leading to the rest of the hotel.

She nod and slams the wooden door shut. Two bullets pierce it, sending splinters everywhere.

Delta brings me to the other door and I tie one of the ropes to a grenade's pin before taping the frag to the wall, next to the door and the other end of the rope to the other side of the door.

"Help me walk, we need to hurry!"

She gets me on my feet and wraps my right arm around her neck while I draw my N99.

Twenty seconds later, the first grenade goes off. Good thing I planted two more on my way.

"If it comes to it, put me somewhere I can hide and go get the back up, they'll get me out."

She nods once and slams her boot in the back door, knocking it off its hinges.

Two Legion boys are waiting there, in the hallway leading to the spa, machete in hand.

One of them lunge at us, too quick for me to take aim.

I push Delta aside and ram into him.

We hit the floor and the pain in my leg seems to spread to my whole body and I see white spots for one second. When they clear out, the Legion boy is sitting on my chest, lifting his weapon to attack.

He tries to stick his blade in my face, but I block his wrist first and throw a punch at his neck; he catches my fist and we end up struggling against each others.

The guy is much bigger and stronger than me, but has a very serious disadvantage.

He's not me.

He puts all his weight on his arms, trying to slit my throat open.

Just as he's about to succeed, I stop pushing and move his arms apart, catching him off guard, and throw my head forward, breaking his nose.

He yells and his grip releases for a split second; more than I need to crush his windpipe.

When look around, Delta and the other guy are gone.

"Vertibird Two, what's your ETA!"

"We're almost there, what's your status? Over."

I force myself to my feet and use my rifle as a crutch of sort.

"Delta's been taken prisoner, I'm engaging pursuit, drop your chalk and take off, come back in five minutes. In the meantime, provide fire support. Over!"

I limp to the other end of the hallway and take position next to the cracked door, pistol in one hand, rifle's stock in the other.

"Got it, One, you cover my six."

"Wilco."

I push the door open with my 'crutch'; it gets turned to swiss cheese by automatic fire.

Dumb fucker.

When the shooting stops, I lie on the ground and push the door again.

The guy is standing right in front of it, as I suspected, aiming at chest level.

I put two 10mm bullets in his face.

I scan the room for other threats. There are none.

There are Jacuzzis and a pool however… That was not a very tactical intel, was it?

There are no windows in the spa, just one door leading to the sauna and one to the outside.

I look at the dust on the ground.

Four sets of tracks are clearly visible; three of them come from the door to the outside, but none lead to it. Two went trough the door I am now lying in front of; only one came back, dragging something with it, creating another, different track.

Whoever he was dragging, most likely Delta, fought back and left quite a few irregular tracks.

From the looks of it and since I can see tracks shaped like hands , I'd say that fuck dragged her by her hairs into the sauna.

I force myself back to my feet and begin walking.

The room is large, twenty meters, at least. Of course, the door I want to cross is at the other end of it.

I'm halfway trough when something shakes the ground.

"ZEUS, on the scene." A rough voice announces in the radio.

For one second, everything goes quiet outside; the Legionaries' frantic search interrupted.

Then all hell breaks loose. Screams of pain and panic, shots from what sounds like a .50CAL machine gun answered by explosions from grenades and rifle shots.

What can take so much fire and still stand? Even a Behemoth would be down by now!

I reach the door and use the same technique as I had with the last one.

No one shoots, not good.

I open it wide and enter the room, checking every corner. The sauna is made of a large marble room, which I am standing in now, and six doors, two by wall, leading to what I suppose is the saunas themselves.

Delta is lying in the middle of the main room, in plain sight; dead or unconscious.

"Alpha One, this is Vertibird One, I'm detecting firefights in the southern part of the town; any idea what's going on down there?"

"Do not get involved." I whisper, slowly backing against the wall for support.

I have three grenades, there's six rooms. One or two should suffice though.

My N99 with my right hand and a grenade in the other, I pull the pin off the explosive and lob it in one of the smaller rooms.

It goes off three seconds later with a deafening sound of broken glass.

I wait ten seconds and throw another grenade in another room.

It goes off with the same sound as the first.

I'm down to my last grenade. Yet he doesn't know that, for all he knows, I got an unlimited supply of those.

I'm about to pull the pin when a panicked Decanus storms out the room on my left.

I press the trigger first and hit him in the throat. He still takes a shot and I feel a burning pain on the top of my head.

"ZEUS, could you do something about those launchers on the bridge, they're ruining my fun, over."

I hear Vertibird Two ask on the radio as I let myself slide to the ground, feeling very cold all of a sudden.

"Negative, Two, Fat Man launchers nearby, too risky; and I have to find Cain and Delta."

"Wilc… Wow! Nice job, ZEUS."

"What happened?"

"The bridge just collapsed!"

"I didn't do it…"

I smile and put the detonator back in its pouch before picking up my rifle.

I can hear Legionaries nearby; they want us? They'll have to bleed for it!

"ZEUS" I mutter; I feel like I was drunk. "We're in the spa, sauna, multiple hostiles in the area…"

The first purple boy passes the door before I'm done.

I put a pullet trough his skull and trough the next one's.

A third one is about to enter too, but a large black and grey mass of fur tackles him to the ground.

The man tries to fight, but the dog rips out a large chunk of flesh and a part of his spine with one jerk.

Behind the animal, another Legionary bites the dust after a 5.56 bullet pierces his frontal lobe.

"This is ZEUS; breaching, watch out."

The dog, apparently feeling what's coming, rushes by my side and hides in the shadows.

The room the Decanus was in explodes, as well as most of the wall near it, and a huge armored figure walks in, carrying a 50mm machine gun, usually mounted behind the jeeps, like it was just an assault rifle.

The Super-mutant Power Armor project? The guys must have cheated here and there to get it operational.

"Cain?" The powerful voice asks, looking at Delta. Its helmet looks weird, with some kind of crest in the middle and four Enclave styled optics.

I raise an hand, unable to speak.

"EVAC Delta first." I whisper in the radio, snapping my finger to attract the dog.

As the Super-mutant carefully pick up the downed sniper, I pat the husky's head.

"Good boy, ain't you?" I whisper, feeling colder and colder.

The animal whines and puts its head on my shoulder.

I think it's the dog I saw when coming in; probably one of Denver's cyber-dogs.

Why I think it's cyber? I just noticed its paws and claws are made of a metallic material and its legs articulations too. Probably a lot my cyber parts to it, but those are the only ones I see.

ZEUS leaves the room with Delta and the husky whines again, watching them go.

He then grabs a mouthful of my hood and start pulling me with no apparent effort, following Delta and the Super-mutant.

"What the…" Is really all I can say as my whole body goes numb.

I'm still conscious though, just can't move for shit.

We pass by a firefight between Reilly's Rangers and legion boys, still following the Super-mutant, and I notice Brick's having lots of fun with her Minigun.

Right behind the rangers is a transport Vertibird, covered by a gunship who also seems to have lots of fun cutting down Legion guys.

From where I am, I can see dozens of those savages with their swords and pointy sticks trying to break the Ranger's line.

Idiots; the Rangers never break the line, not even when out of ammo. They hold off until told otherwise and anyone trying to make them budge is in for the fight of his life.

Personally, I never tried, but I heard of some who did and ended up vaporized by Eugene.

Zeus drops Delta in the Vertibird and joins the fray, shrugging off everything the Legion throws at him like it was rain.

He lifts his machine gun and unleashes the thunder on those ignorant fools, like the mythological god.

Nothing the Legionaries do can save them from the slaughter; the 50mm bullets going trough everything like it was butter, be in human flesh or concrete.

Anyone that hides, the Vertibird quickly cuts down and any idiot foolish enough to pick up one of the Missile Launchers scattered around ends up torn to pieces by the Rangers' focused firepower.

The dog finally let go off me and I order everyone to fall back.

Job's done.

Reilly and Donovan pick me up on their way, apparently wondering just how I got there.

Once everyone's on board- Zeus having to sit on the floor with his legs hanging out the left sliding door and the dog being cuddled in a corner, far from everyone-, Butcher offers to check on my wounds, but I decline.

"Her first." I order, nodding toward Dusk.

He checks on the sniper while Brick kneels next to the right door and lay down some fire on a small Legion outpost.

"Yeah! Free lead for everyone, bitches!"

I shiver. Why is it so cold?

Butcher injects a Stimpack in Dusk's neck and she stirs, groaning in pain. The medic then turns to me and curses.

"Kiddo, how much blood did you loose?"

"Dunno, five gallons." I joke.

Butcher smiles and shake his head before checking the Tattoo on my neck.

It tells my name, blood group and all that useful stuff.

It used to be on the wrist, but when someone is badly injured… Well, they don't always keep all their parts, you know? So we moved it to the neck instead; this way, if you can't find someone's tattoo, it doesn't really matter anymore.

Butcher plugs a Bloodpack to my wrist and shine a small flashlight in my eyes.

"Mild concussion, nothing some Stimpack can't solve." He announces.

He moves to my leg, cutting the pant all the way up to my knee.

"Severe lacerations, but they already started healing. No broken bones, but your knee was popped out of place, I'll have to…"

*Crack*

"FUUUUUCKKK!"

Asshole just popped my leg back where it belongs; not a pleasant experience for both of us, me because my knee fucking hurts, him because I broke his nose.

"Where did you learn first aid, damnit? Butcher school!"

I realize the irony and lie back as he shoots a Stimpack in my neck too. The cold is slowly going away and I can almost feel my fingers now!

I glance over at Dusk.

She's pale and smiling weakly.

"What?" I groan, moving in my seat so I'm facing her.

"Did you see what his mask did? That was wicked!"

She's talking about the Centurion.

"Yeah," I laugh, "that's one purple bitch who's not getting up."


	16. R&R

**A/N: At first I wanted to call ZEUS 'Thor', but that sounded cliché and I would have felt the need to arm him with some Super Sledge (Mjolnir), then I though of Thanatos, but I don't know that much about him except it was the god of corruption or something. Then I decided to check in the Grec-Roman diety field and decided Zeus would fit the character (Mostly once he gets a Tesla Cannon :D) **

**God and the Snake: Dunno, never played GOW. And you should try sleeping then, might help :P.**

**Frontier (Sidetracked? Whatever o_O) Productions: Alright, I'll see what I can do... Incoming awkward scenes xD**

**Fanks fo za 'view peoples! (I dunno what that was, german-french accent, maybe?)**

Six hours after Glenwood Springs

Eagle One's Briefing room.

Lyons, Casdin, Lydia, Darling, Calico and Reilly are all standing around the holographic display showing what we believe to be Legion troop movement, around the wasteland.

"Are we at war with the guys?" Reilly finally asks.

We've been standing here for two hours now, watching the images our eyebots and drones were sending us.

Those fuckers cover all of Colorado, Arizona, a part of New-Mexico and a small patch of Nevada, where they seem to be massing their troops.

"Yes and no, we are not openly declaring war to them, but they still are to be considered hostile." I answer after a few seconds.

"Why?"

"Same reason as with the Midwest Brotherhood. I infiltrated these idiots and learned enough to know they would either kill or enslave all of us. Not gonna happen, not on my watch."

I nod to Casdin and he taps the holographic display's console.

Two dozen purple dots start shining, all roughly forming a line leading to one last, bigger dot, in the Nevada.

"These seem to be high value targets and locations to the Legion, according to troop movements and radio chatter.

They have many more, but those are the only ones on our path.

Most notable are Las Vegas, Denver, Hoover Dam and many spots that do not correspond to any pre-war locations.

Most of them are just small rebellions that need to be crushed or outposts that need fresh troops, except for those in Nevada, who seem to be held by a larger military force. Identity unknown.

The Eagles will head for Vegas at fifty percent of their max speed, the trip will last roughly a month and during those four weeks, we will send small task forces to help reinforce these rebellions and fight off the Legion or, it the case of the outposts, take out current guards and relief force."

They all nod slowly while looking at the display. A small rebellion that manages to root itself in can be more damaging than a head on assault by hundreds of Tanks.

"Now," I continue as the screen shows Denver's layout and a report about the large amount of tech we believe could be salvaged there. "Don't think this is a humanitarian mission, most of these targets are also important weapons and supply depots. Once the Legion has been routed, orders are to grab what you can and bring it back. This is mostly a supply run, understood?"

They all nod again.

The display changes for an evaluation of our troops' combat effectiveness versus that of the Legion.

Our Mercenaries are vastly superior to Legionaries; better training, better armor, better weapons… Heck, I've seen some of the boys attach Grenade rifle under their R91, allowing them to quickly suppress an entrenched enemy… Or clusters of crazy bastards that rush at them with machetes.

Only way the Legion can win a fight against Talon Company is if they outnumber us five or ten to one; thing is, according to the force projections, they outnumber us a thousand to one, if not more.

"I trust everyone knows what they have to do. Calico, you and Lydia will be coordinating the whole thing; I'll be taking care of most covert ops. Ou-ah?"

The answer's immediate.

"Ou-ah!"

"Now, anything to report, anyone?"

Casdin steps forward.

"Project ZEUS is almost completed, however, I must warn you that it was extremely costly and I oppose to any attempt at mass production…"

"Don't worry, Protector, this was the first and last prototype; we will still use duraframe plates to create armors for Super-Mutant, but these won't be powered. One like ZEUS already seemed like overkill to me. Next?"

Darling talks, his face hidden in the shadows.

Guy creeps me out sometimes.

"My pilots have almost finished teaching the Outcast Specialists how to fly a vertibird.

Soon we will be able to keep all three birds in the air for weeks with only having t land to change pilot, rearm and refit.

Also, Garrows has begun sending soldiers with a gift for unconventional warfare our way to expend First Airborne. We should have a new Verti-assault team assembled before the weekend. That's all."

"Good… Anyone else?"

No one says anything.

"Dismissed."

I'm about to leave the room when Reilly and Sarah wave me over to a corner of the room.

"Yes, something you ladies need?" I ask, grinning. Both women roll their eyes.

They seem to think there is an hidden meaning to it, although I really can't figure what it is.

"Dusk told me what happened down there," Sarah begins, "I think you have some explaining to do…"

Do I now?

"About what?"

"About where the hell you learned that stuff! I talked to other Talons, that's not the kind of things you learn at boot camp." Reilly sounds mad, I don't see why.

"I was part of the Close Assault division, when there still was a close assault division. Its the predecessor of the Hitmen crews, we used advanced tactics instead of cyber upgrades. We got re-affected to regular field operations about two years ago… Why, is something wrong?"

They stare at each others.

"How many of you guys are there?" Reilly asks, after a few seconds.

I try to remember who else was in the division.

It was a fairly small outfit, since we usually did solo ops anyway.

"Me, Morales, Carpenter, Murphy, Ray and Lao… Yeah, I think that's it… Why the fuck does it matter?"

They are starting to get on my nerve now. I used to be in a Black Ops squad, so what? We ended up being obsolete and now we're just grunts with a bit more training!

Well, those of us still alive, that is.

Is there actually anyone else left?

Morales was shot in the face by Ghost when the bounty on her head still had two zeroes, I shot Carpenter and Lao back in C Trench, Murphy became Jabsco's aide, so I guess he's having a scotch in Tenpenny Tower right now… What about Ray? He was the oldest member, I guess he retired.

Fuck, I'm the last member of Epsilon squad… Feels weird, to be the last of something.

I tell that to the girls who look sorry.

They shouldn't; guys were and are all dirt bags.

"So, that's all you wanted? Know how comes I can pretend to be a vegetable so well?"

They laugh.

"No, idiot," Sarah begins, "I wanted to thank you, you know, for helping Dusk, and I asked Reilly to make you one of her Battle Armors; she modified it a bit so you can use the thing with one of those suits of yours."

Battle Armor? Sweet…

"Modified how?"

"Removed the shoulder pads, added the fluffy brown-green stuff; looks like some mutated ape now, if you ask me."

That's pretty nice, although I've always had a soft spot for black armor, Ghillie suits are much better adapted to my fighting style.

"I… Uh… Thanks, I guess."

Reilly laughs and slap my shoulder.

"No problem, kid, you're doing a good job, we all appreciate it. So, what's that about covert ops?"

"Classified."

"Come on!"

"Nope."

Sarah smiles at Reilly's annoyance; or grimace… She doesn't really look like she does that often.

"However, before you plan any kind of operation, I strongly suggest you take two days of R&R, not just for yourself, but for everyone's safety, I doubt Talon Company would function without you to hold it together." Sarah suggests on a tone that clearly says 'do what I say or I'll lock you up in your quarters.'

"Alright, I'll be in the infirmary if anything comes up." I announce.

"Why the infirmary?" Asks Sarah, clearly not getting it.

"The dog's there."

"What dog?"

Whatever.

* * *

Once I reach the infirmary, I'm surprised to see Dusk is still there, in her bed, dog sleeping next to her.

She's reading something while petting the dog's head.

"Hey, Dawn, what's up? I thought the doc had released you hours ago!"

She looks up from her book and smile widely.

"Hey Captain! Nope, the doc says I'm okay, but Butcher wants to keep me around here for a while; says he's afraid my brain's messed up or something."

I laugh.

"Mine's been fucked up since as long as I can remember, no doc ever gave me shit for it! Of course I can't really remember that far…"

She snorts.

"Right, even a bullet to the head didn't do shit to that brain pan of yours."

"It only grazed, Dusk; I was shot in the head once though, wakes up."

She gets a weird look and I understand I talked too much.

It's not that kind of brain damage the doc's on the lookout for.

I walk over to her bed and sit at her feet.

"Going in a mission with your whole squad and a commander is very different than having to make your own decisions, isn't it?

I know how you feel, I feel like that every time. I love it, but it scares me some times. I could have died in there, I could have gotten you killed with me. What if I had done this differently? If I had been faster? Or slower?

That's what you're thinking, right?"

She gives me a short nod.

"Well don't; we are alive and the target isn't. We completed the mission and lived, that's all that matters, and that mean we took the right decisions every time."

"Is that really all that matters?" She whispers, sounding somewhat depressed, "Completing the mission?"

What kind of question is that?

"I... Of course… We went all the way there with one desire, killing that fuck."

"Maybe more that one…"

"What was that?"

She blinks and looks at the dog, her face going red.

"Nothing."

Oh-kay then.

"So…" I really can't find any good topic, but for some reason, I don't feel like getting off that bed. "What are you reading?"

She looks at the pile of paper in her hands and grows even redder.

"It's… It's just a file."

File?

"About?"

"Nothing."

I study her face for a few seconds.

"It's mine, isn't it?"

She seems to sink in the bed. The husky looks up, wondering what's going on.

"I'm sorry! I was just curious and…"

Sorry about what? Files are made to be read, no?

"It's okay, I guess…" I reassure the sniper, hesitantly, "Found something interesting?"

"Actually, yeah; who's Desmond Lockheart?"

"Ugh… Desmond."

* * *

5 years earlier.

"_So," The old ghoul began, looking around the motel room, "I hear you're good at finding stuff. That true?"_

_The Merc, who had been reading in his room, didn't lower his silenced Chinese pistol._

"_Yeah, I can even help you find the door. Just behind you."_

"_Wow, your sense of humor's shit, kid."_

"_So's your face, but at least you have a good excuse for it, I suppose"_

_The ghoul laughed._

"_Listen there, asshole, I'm here to offer you a fucking job, and an easy one at that, so hear me out before you go all fucking Merc asshole on me._

"_What's the pay? You don't look like you actually have the funds to buy my services." _

"_Right… Look, boy, I know stuff, stuff that just might make you live past puberty, so you go find what I need and I'll make you into a stone hard killer, you can count on that."_

_The kid, barely above twenty, and the ghoul, largely above two-hundred, stared at each other for a whole minute._

"_What do you need?" _

_

* * *

_

"And what did he want?" Dusk asks, interrupting the flow of memories.

"Some brain wave blocker or something. Had me search twenty locations in the swamps for it."

"Did you find it?"

"Of course; I always complete the mission." I answer, not hiding my pride.

She smiles.

"You're a cocky one, aren't you? I like that."

I punch her shoulder playfully.

"So… We need to find that mutt a name, don't we?" I realize, suddenly.

Somehow knowing I'm talking about him, the dog looks up and perks it ears.

"What, you like that name? Mutt?"

He barks happily.

"Crazy son of a bitch."

Another bark.

"I won't even tell you what was wrong with that statement." Dawn laughs.

"Well," I announce with a laugh. "I gotta get some sleep… Don't even think about it."

"About what?"

"You know what. I'll see you later, Dusk."

She pouts and nod as I leave the room.

"Alright, Captain, see ya."

I wave childishly and she laugh, making the dog bark again.

* * *

_Desmond punched the Merc in the face again._

"_Your defense is sloppy, keep those fucking arms up you dumb fuck!"_

_The boy nodded and swung his right arm toward the ghoul's jaw. Lockheart blocked, caught his arm and sent the Merc spinning against one of the walls of the mansion. _

_Kid was tough alright, if the ghoul had any doubt at their first meeting, they had all but been erased when he saw the assassin punch a Swampfolk into submission._

_He also had a training and discipline worthy of the old world SEALs Desmond had worked with a couple of times._

_Still, kid had lots of things to learn, and Desmond was really having fun teaching him._

"_Here's the best tactic in close combat. Stand your ground and let the enemy try to get you. Once the fucker do, react accordingly and hit him where it hurts. They want to live just as much as you do and are just as well trained as you are, the only question is; do they have what it take to fight really dirty?"_

_He then threw a punch at the kid, who dodged and slammed his left elbow in the ghoul's face. Or tried, at least._

_Desmond blockedand punched the boy in the ribs twice._

"_Most peoples see killing as a fucking romantic thing, think there's an honorable way of doing it. That's crap, murder's fucking messy, no matter how you kill, it's always messy. Make sure they understand that, exploit their deepest fear, break their crappy romantic ideas and they'll see you as a monster, then use this against them."_

_The merc sent a trio of lightning quick punches, only to end up having his head bashed against a nearby table._

"_People make mistakes when they are scared, angry or upset; these mistakes will give you an edge as long as you keep your fucking head on straight and remain ice cold."_

_Desmond blocked a kick and ducked under two punches._

_He tried to hit the neck area, left unprotected by the last punch, but realized his mistake just before the hit landed._

_The kid caught Lockheart's wrist and turned around, putting his leg under his instructor's center of gravity._

_The ghoul was thrown across the room and landed on the hard floor._

"_That's good, you son of a bitch, very good!" _

_That was the closest thing to a praise Desmond had ever said. He seemed taken aback by his own statement._

"_I think I've showed you more than I should have already," he then announced, sitting up. "Get the fuck out of here."_

_The kid nodded once and turned around, leaving the mansion without a single look for his mentor._

_Desmond spent a few minutes wondering just what kind of monster he had created before getting up with a smile._

"_I bet whatever you want we'll hear from that asshole very soon…" He told Geri, his dog._


	17. No One Is Safe

**A/N God and the Snake: Guilty as charged, I guess...**

**ZEUS' a specialist, like Cole, except his speciality is mass destruction insteand of quiet elimination... He'll recieve assignments accordingly :) (So yeah, Pwn button)**

**Thatguy: Yup, will do, soon... I think... Maybe...**

**Frontier Productions: Hmm... I think you'll be surprised.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing... and hitting (?) (1556 hits o_O My highest until now was 28.)**

18 hours later.

Cantina.

I give Calico a suspicious glare. She stares back defiantly.

"You're bluffing, Lieutenant, you don't have shit." I growl.

McKiney scoffs.

"Bitch's just too good for you, boss."

Vertibird two's pilot, Diana she said her name was, Dexter from Squad Alpha and Lt. Darling all slap or punch him at the same time. Earning a low chuckle from Rock.

"Fucking ow, guys! Why'd you do that for?"

"Show respect, soldier."

Mac frowns and looks down at his game.

We're all assembled around a circular table, playing poker with an old card deck Eli always has with her.

I look at my game and curse under my breath.

"Oh ho, Cap's about to get fleeced big time!" Mac laughs, dodging another onslaught from his superiors.

Dusk grins.

"At least he didn't fold after ten caps."

Mac pouts like a child.

"Not my fault you guys are paying me peanuts!"

"You get the standard Merc fee plus a risk prime," I mutter, still focusing on my deck. "You would have plenty of money if you stopped buying weapon mods from Sydney."

Mutt barks his approval.

"Kids," Lt. Kale cut in. "Are we playing or what?"

Kale is that guy with the broken minigun I field promoted back at the stadium; he leads the Arty division now.

The tenth and last member of the game, the super-mutant codenamed ZEUS , nods his approval.

"Let us get this done with, I cannot wait to collect my winnings and buy myself some more appropriate clothing. This outfit makes me look like a beggar."

I snort. "Right, like we had any clothing shops in here."

Everyone stares at each other hesitantly.

"…We do?"

"Rangers Outfitting." Calico fills me in. "Reilly and the Outcasts have a small shop in every ship where they sell basic wears to the troops. I think they also buy."

"Who gave them permission?"

"I did."

We both stare at each others for a few seconds. She looks down first.

"Nice initiative. Don't do it again though." I look back to my deck and sigh in despair. "Oh well, Let's get this over with, I have some shopping to do."

I push all my money to the middle of the table. Earning a sadistic laugh from Mac.

"Oho! Cap's playing rough!"

Leon, or ZEUS, puts down his hand down.

"I fold."

Darling, Kale, Dusk and Dexter follow him, leaving only Diana, unreadable with her ever present cool smile and officer cap, Rock, who just seems to stay by principle and Calico, who obviously thinks we're all bluffing.

There's one thousand caps worth of Pre-war money on the table, enough to buy ten combat armors in the wastes.

Eli and Diana stare at each others for a few seconds.

"That's good," Calico announces with a smile, "I like it rough…"

McKiney almost chokes on his beer before rolling on the ground, laughing.

Diana's smile widens a bit.

"Well, you'll get what you asked for, doll; Flush!"

Calico's smile remains.

"Full house."

The pilot nods.

"Well played…"

"Four of a kind." I smile, slowly putting my hand down.

Now McKiney's almost having seizures.

"He suckered you both! Oh man that was fucking sweet! Reminded me of…"

"Royal Flush." Rocks interrupts.

I think he just killed Mac… Wait, no, he's getting up.

McKiney checks Rock's game and giggles.

"Oh man, he's serious! He owned you guys!"

I laugh and nod.

"Nice job, Rock."

"Thank you, sir."

We all sit back, laughing at how we got owned by the silent guy.

Most are drinking beers, except me and Dusk, who preferred Nuka-Colas.

After a few minutes, I slip out of the room and make my way to the comm. Center.

* * *

"Anything on us?" I ask the comm. Officer.

"Negative sir, they only talk about that Cain guy, from the bible… Seem to be scared shitless he's mad at them or some shit."

Cain… Son of the snake, some say. The first murderer of history. God's blessing, and curse, was that he could never be killed by a man, as a punishment for killing his brother; he would walk the land with only his guilt for companion; for eternity.

I read the bible, once, but I never imagined anyone else would, especially in the Legion.

Don't get this wrong, I didn't choose the codename Cain because of that, I don't care about the bible, it's simply a different way of saying Charlie, like Bravo and Beta. Plus, it's been my codename since I joined talon company

"Alright," I say, after a few seconds, "Keep listening, if you hear anything interesting, come tell me or Calico…"

He nods.

"Yup, that's pretty much my job as Comm. Officer."

I grin and leave the room.

* * *

36 hours later

Outside Caesar's temple.

"Lydia, do you read?"

"Y… Affirmative, Cain, encryption seems solid this time, you can talk freely. What is your position?"

I look at the sea of ruin and dust I am hidden in, masquerading as another dead bush.

"Prone, that's all I can tell you. Any useful intel from the drones?"

"Twenty guards around the perimeter, probably professionals…"

"You think Caesar's here?"

"No, from what I understand, he is leading the invasion of Nevada. All you will find in there are his priestess."

I sigh. I don't like killing unarmed women, even less childs, but this temple is where they raise legionaries. I destroy it, the Legion will be crippled for decades. Not only because they will not get anymore fresh troops, but the priestess are in charge of brainwashing soldiers and keeping them in that state. Get rid of the bitches and the bastards will start to doubt, greatly reducing morale and discipline.

I'm not declaring war on Caesar's Legion, Cain is.

As far as they are concerned, Cain and Talon Company are two very different things. Cain is a professional assassin working for an unknown faction, Talon Company is just well equipped raider gang. By the time they put two and two together, I'll be ready to finish them off.

Let's stay focused.

I look at the two squads behind me.

One hit crew, composed of three Hitman, and Reilly's squad, with Brick, Donovan, Butcher and Reilly.

"Team alpha, you set up sniping positions around the compound, Rangers, you're with me, we're going in that building."

"Rules of engagement?"

" Shoot anything that moves; Everything in there will try to kill you, not everything will be able to though, so use judgment, okay?"

"I…" Reilly seems about to protest, but she know why we're here, it's not pretty, but if we want to beat the Legion, we need to get our hands dirty. "Understood."

With that, we begin crawling forward.

The temple is actually an old school, surrounded by walls of scrap metal and filled with Legion flags.

I can't see the inner courtyard yet, since there's a four meters high wall of steel between it and me, but I know it will not be patrolled by those legion dogs, since, a few minutes earlier, I threw Brahmin steaks filled with enough Psycho to make them all go mad.

I then spent five minutes listening to the screams and confusion caused by the sudden aggressively.

All dogs are now either dead or held in cages. Better yet, they got rid of a lot of Legionaries without raising an alarm, making my job much easier.

We reach the wall and Brick kneel next to it. I step on her shoulders and she stands, boosting me within jumping range of the edge.

"Ready?" I ask her.

"Nope." She moves a bit and I hold to the wall. "Alright, do it."

I flex my knees and push against Brick's shoulder. The heavy gunner rolls out of the way, in case I miss.

I don't.

Once I've secured my hold on the side, Brick grabs my ankles and we form some sort of living ladder for the others.

Reilly climbs up first and stop once she's almost sitting on my head.

"Sentries, up ahead, hold on and keep quiet."

I growl my acknowledgment and swear to get that leg rechecked as soon as I get back to the ship.

Thing hurts like ten bitches.

Once the guards are gone, Reilly sits on top of the wall while Donovan tosses her our packs and Butcher begins climbing.

Once the other three are pass, Brick climbs up and sit on the wall, just like Reilly, offering her hand.

Not gonna refuse that; can't feel my fucking arms.

Once on the other side, I draw my Infiltrator and the others do the same, except Brick, who's holding a suppressed 10mm Ultra SMG.

"Fan out, five meters spread. No engagement until we have found and terminated the high priestess. Understood?"

They all nod once.

"Remember; as soon as it gets nasty, every psycho in the area will come after us, so be quiet and stay frosty."

"Ou-ah." Donovan whispers.


	18. Nothing Is Sacred

**A/N: Still not sure if I'll put this in the M section soon, what do you guys think? Should I add some "Action" scenes? :/**

**Frontier Production: Yup, but that's a different kind ^^ **

I found an entry point at ground level; a broken window leading to an old storage room.

My boots crush some broken glass when I land, so I'm pretty sure no one ever comes here. Maybe I'll have time to rest a bit; I've been working on this for ten hours now and I'm supposed to meet the others in the High Priestess quarters before the sun's up; after killing its occupant, of course.

I glance at my watch.

2334 hour, still got four hours until I need to actually do anything.

Perfect.

I throw my backpack to the floor and grab my canteen.

I don't have MREs but water will suffice. Part of my training is being able to keep a clear mind even when I'm starving.

Says a lot about Talon Company's supply lines, doesn't it?

I take a few sips and am about to put the thing back in my pack when someone speaks on the other side of the door.

I freeze, cap in my hand.

"Let go of me, Legionary! I am…" *Slap!*

"Quiet, woman! Do as I say or you will regret it!"

I slowly open the door.

There's a Legionary, pining a woman in white dress against the wall.

He's right in front of me, his back turned.

The woman sees me however, once I step into the light.

Reilly's right, my ghilli suit makes me look like some monster from those holomovies we have in the mess hall.

"T… There is someone else…" She whimper, clearly terrified.

"What? Your husband? Screw him!"

"N…No, I mean, with us."

"Wh…" *Cra-Crack*

I stare at the man's lifeless eyes.

Been a while since I broke someone's neck; I missed him at first, had to twist it twice to break it right.

The woman is shaking like a leaf.

"Are you a Priestess?" I ask her in a soft, comforting tone.

She nod, shaking. Her green eyes are wide open, torn between fear and gratitude.

"Then I'm sorry." I pull my N99 and shoot her in the face once, then twice in the hearth.

She didn't even have time to be scared.

I kneel next to her and look at her eyes:

They are still scared and grateful.

I close them with a sigh.

I'm a professional alright, but sometimes, I wonder if it actually excuses anything.

I hide the bodies in the storage room.

Guess I'll move ahead and try to find the High Priestess' room.

First, I take off the ghillie suit and toss it in my pack, keeping my gray Kevlar-titanium weave shirt (Most use the T-shirt variant with their Combat Armors, but I prefer not having to waste time hiding my pale forearms.) and the black Battle Armor chest piece; I haven't painted the Talon logo on it yet.

My balaclava should suffice to hide the near glowing white skin of my face.

Overall, this is better adapted to indoor environment than the suit.

* * *

I sneak in the room trough a dusty venting shaft at ground level.

Wow.

That's all I can think of; wow.

That girl's got a princess complex!

Expensive pink sheets, fluffy carpets, crappy paintings…

I open the dresser in the north-east corner of the room.

Yup, expensive dresses.

I suppose being one of Caesar's favorite whores has its perks.

I glance back at the door.

There is two guard right outside; Praetorians, from what I hear.

I hear them greet someone.

Time to hide.

I draw my pistol and slip in the small empty spot between the dresser and the corner of the wall.

Lots of spider webs.

"All callsigns," I breath in my radio once a white figure enters the room. "This is Cain; positive ID on target, stand by."

"Cain, this is Lydia, do not take the shot, I repeat don't shoot!"

I hit the radio button twice.

"The others and I think the high Priestess should be taken alive, she knows lots of things that could be useful."

You can't capture those Legion bastards. They'd prefer death to capture… Well that's my problem, isn't it?

"I got it." I whisper when the woman turns on the radio and lies on the bed with a tired sigh. "All callsigns, go loud, terminate your targets then proceed to the extraction point."

"What about you?"

"I got this." I repeat.

"If you say so:" Reilly laughs. "All points; Go loud! Go loud!"

Outside, the snipers start firing their .308 and Gauss rifles, creating a sound close to a thunderstorm.

Inside, the Ranger begin taking on the Legionaries in close combat.

Eugene is the loudest of the lot.

I leap from my hiding spot and pull the priestess off her bed.

"Prof…" She goes to yell, but I put my hand on her mouth.

Shit, she's not exactly what I expected.

Short brown hairs, dark blue eyes, barely above twenty; she looks like some sort of angel with her perfectly white dress… Of course, Caesar probably prefers them young and pretty; and this one really is breath taking. Even if she's trying to stick a switchblade in my guts.

I slap the weapon away and put my finger on my mouth.

"Listen to me! I am here to help you, you hear? I was hired to bring you to safety. I am going to remove my hand, if you scream for your guards, they will die and you will be sedated; either way, I do my job and get paid. Do you understand?"

She nods. I remove my hand.

"Hired by who?" Is the first question she asks.

"Not someone of the Legion, but someone that has interests in seeing the Legion succeed and Talon Company fail. It's all I can tell; it's all I know."

She gets a confused look.

"What is Talon Company?"

"Look, miss… Whoever you are, it doesn't really matter… I'm here to do my job, you can either help me do it or resist, but whatever you choose, do it now, 'cause I don't have time to waste."

The gun shots are starting to die down now.

"Okay… Who are you?"

"Cain."

She's about to say something but I grab her shoulders and shove her toward the window.

The door opens and one of the Praetorians peeks in the room.

He gets two 5.56 bullets in the face.

"They're here! Hurry, girl!"

She climbs out as fast as her dress will allow.

Well fuck; this is working.

The other Praetorian rushes in and I hip-fire a whole magazine into him at point blank.

Once he's down, I sling my rifle and draw the pistol.

The priestess is out now. I quickly follow and soon stand on a small ledge next to her.

We're on the first floor, so it's not that much of a fall; still, she hesitates.

I pull her off the floor and jump.

The impact is rough on my still wounded leg, but I manage not to drop my cargo.

I put her down and she wastes no time to kick me in the crotch.

I hear a sniper laugh in my headset as I fall to my knees.

"Ow! The fuck was that for!"

She doesn't answer but keeps glaring at me, royally pissed. I push the pain in the back of my brain and get up.

"Come on, let's keep moving!" I hiss.

This time, I simply use termite to burn a hole in the wall.

I shove the angry Legion girl trough the hole and smirk as Reilly warns me not to strangle the priest before she told me something useful.

Nothing to worry about, that's exactly my plan; I will find out everything she knows, then, I'll snap that pretty lill' neck of hers and leave her corpse to rot in a ditch somewhere.

I get trough after her and we set off running.

I need to pick her up every five steps because she can't run for shit with that dress, but we finally make it out of sight from the temple.

She stops suddenly and gives me a burning glare.

That girl's supposed to be an ex slave?

"What is it now?" I hiss, angrily.

"I have questions."

"And I don't have answers for you." Actually, its exactly that kind of attitude I was hoping for, I'll talk with her, answer her questions, reluctantly, of course, suddenly wonder if she is the right person and start asking _her_ questions, to prove she is who she says she is.

"Then I'm not moving."

"I could just knock you out and drag you."

She gets an evil grin.

"Right, dragging me trough the wastes is so much easier than answering questions. What? You are afraid I will think you're an imposter? Profligate."

Her tone makes me want to pop her skull right here and then.

Not yet.

"Alright, what do you want to know?"

She smiles victoriously.

_Don't kill her yet. Don't kill her yet. Don't kill her yet. Don't kill her yet. _

"You said your name was Cain. Cain what?"

"Just Cain."

"Like the assassin?"

"Like Cain. Anything else?"

"Yes; where are we going?"

"Somewhere safe."

"And that is?"

"I'll know when I find it."

I actually just need time to gain her trust and pump infos out of her.

Most efficient way to do that, excluding torture, is playing on physical attraction and establish a false relationship.

Translation; best way to get a girl to talk is sex.

Come to think of it, that's a pretty macho philosophy… Weird that the instructor who taught me interrogation techniques was a woman.

Well, she also said that most of the world's best assassins were female and I totally believe that; Even I need to mentally beat myself every time a girl with a pretty smile tries to get close to me. Men always have much trouble thinking straight around women and that can be fatal in our line of work.

Then again, eating your sugar bombs in the morning can be fatal in our line of work, so…

"Hello… Am I interrupting something?" She calls, waving her hand in front of my face.

"Yes, I'm thinking about the safest place I could hide you in until the completion of my contract."

"So?" She asks, expectantly.

I get up and head north, away from Legion territory. If we run across any Legion outpost, I'll make sure it gets attacked during our stay there, give her the feeling we're actually hunted.

Might also have one of the Vertibirds swoop over us, if they got time for that.

"No clue, but we can't stay here, let's move."

She groans and follow me.


	19. Deathclaws And Molerats

**A/N: Warning, Molerats Ahead.**

**Aroukar: Thanks man! **

**1: Chapter length: I'm doing my best to deliver daily updates :/ **

**2: Many characters: Yeah... I actually started creating a profile for each of them, to help peoples know who's who xD**

**3: Lone Wanderer: Heck yeah, he took her sword. O_o REVENGE! **

**4: Desmond: Lots more, patience ^^**

**God and the Snake: You might be onto something :D But I gotta say, Talon Company is a lot like the Marines: Ou-ah, semper Fi and all that; It's family to most members, so they wouldn't even think about quitting... Plus, they are not sitting idly, everyone is launching supply raids on Legion outposts while Cole takes care of covert ops... Anyway, thanks for reviewing, made me think :) **

7km North of Salt Lake city, Utah.

0012 hour.

"Can we stop?" the girl whines, "We have been walking for hours!"

"We walked for half an hour now. Another half and you can start bitching about walking for hours."

"You're a bastard." Something about her tone makes sounds… Off. Cold. Doesn't fit her character.

"Closer to reality than you might think." I answer, without really thinking about it.

She gives me a weird look.

"Come on, Cain, I'm tired, I wear a dress and got no shoes, you have combat boots and were trained for this." She whines again. Her eyes, however, do not look tired; they look furious and cold.

Blue; the hottest flame and coldest ice.

"I was _made_ for this." I correct. "Okay, we'll camp here," I throw my pack to the ground and sit in the dust.

"Here?"

What again?

"Yes, here."

"But… We could be attacked during the night." She doesn't sound like the whiny bitch that was gragging her feet two seconds ago

Oh what the fuck is that?

"It's morning and we're in Legion territory."

"Where do I sleep?" She asks, apparently expecting me to pull a bed from behind a rock.

I blink twice.

"Wherever the fuck you want to, princess; there is dirt, sand, rock or mutated mushrooms, which do you prefer."

She sit on the dirt, three meters away from me.

"You don't like me, do you?" She whispers in a semi-sad tone.

"No." I hiss, "You're brainwashing kids into becoming fanatical killers for a crazy man that won't be alive for much longer; so yes, I feel somewhat annoyed by everything you do, including breathing."

She gives me an hateful look.

"Caesar is the son of Mars! He will rule the ea…"

I raise my hand, interrupting her.

"Caesar is a tyrant that built himself a throne of blades and bayonets, he can sit on it, but it won't last long." I reply in a calm tone.

"Do not speak wrong of Caesar in my presence, Dissolute! This man gave me everything, I owe him my life!" She's yelling now.

"What life? What about freedom? Either you serve Caesar or you die, that's no way to live."

"Serving Caesar is a great honor; we work for the greater good."

"Yeah, Caesar's greater good…"

"Look around you!" She stands and start walking in circles around me. "We bring safety to the wasteland, justice!"

"At the cost of freedom, and what justice? One that benefits the Legion alone?"

She stops in front of me, looking like she's about to strangle the life out of me…

Or to try, at least.

"What freedom? That of dying in the wastes? Of starving…"

I stand too.

Bitch asked for it.

"Did you go out there? When is the last time you got out of your golden fucking bubble? Peoples are dying! Peoples are starving! You. Are. Killing. Them!" I detach my words , like I'm talking to a child.

"What are you talking about? We feed our peoples, they are glad to be of the Legion, when do…"

"Exactly, YOUR people, the rest can die! You take food and lands from farmers and leave them to die."

Her eyes widen. They don't look that angry anymore, more kinda tired.

"What! No! We assimilate the Dissolutes, yes, but we are not Profligates, we have honor…"

"Don't lie to yourself! I saw it! Your Centurion, about to crush a rebellion, starving peoples left to themselves because they won't embrace the way of the Legion…" I lock my eyes with hers. "Women turned into fuck toys…"

"How dare you!" She yells, leaping at me with surprising speed. Now she's angry.

I let her land one punch and catch the next.

"You done?" I growl.

She tries to hit me in the crotch again but I block her knee and grab her throat.

"You don't know who you're fucking with, girly." I hiss, tackling her on a car sized rock.

"Let me go." She orders. Then, she gives me two vicious punches in the jaw and I drop her.

Next thing I know, she's sitting on my chest, beating the fuck out of my face with her bare hands.

Well shit, that bitch's pretty scrappy.

I bring my legs up and around her neck.

One light switch of weight and she bites the dust.

"And stay down." I hiss as she struggles for breath in my scissor grip.

She switches in a weird way, twisting her body around like some contortionist and something hard hits the back of my head.

I feel copper in my mouth and bells ringing in my ears. The fuck? I'm a trained Black operator and that bitch is beating the crap out of me?

Well, so far it has gone exactly as expected; bad.

I get back up.

"So… What they did to you was that bad?"

I dodge two hits and stay out of arm range, hands at chest height.

It's a way of saying: You beat me, but I'm still going to defend myself.

Tears in her eyes, she seems about to try and bash my skull again.

"You don't know anything... You're an idiot… You're an idiot, but you're right."

She sits on the ground, lost in her memories.

Now mental distress; getting there.

I sit next to her, my whole face swelling and throbbing.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have talked like I did. It's not your fault." I whisper, the words coming by themselves. I put my hand on her shoulder, testing to see how she'll react to a comforting gesture.

She shakes a bit as she sobs but don't move otherwise.

Something in her attitude tells me she know what I'm up to, so I remove my hand and pat her in the back.

She's tougher than I though, but I'll break her, you'll see.

"Get some sleep, I'll…"

That smell… Blood, sweat and other things I really don't want to think about right now.

She seems about to say something, but I talk first.

"Raiders, get down."

We both hit the deck; she kicks up way more sand that I'd like.

Fucking civvies.

I still can't hear or see a thing; which is bad..

Blood, sweat, musky smell…

Raider; or Deathclaw.

I get up on my knee and survey our suroundings.

Rocks all around, burned house two hundred meters to our right, one of those metal towers with wires hanging on it sixty meters on our left, six dead trees scattered around us, another house to our left, seventy meters away.

To me, the moonlight is like broad daylight, yet I can't see shit around us.

Legion girl gets up after me.

"Whe…" I slap my hand over her mouth.

I draw D-E-T-C-L-A in the sand and she start shaking like a scared rabbit. Can't blame her; I'm about to shit my pant myself.

I nod toward the tower.

"Run, as fast as you can. And don't look back." I whisper in a shaky voice.

"What about you?"

Why does she care?

"I'll attract their attention for a second then go after you. I'll be right behind, don't worry."

She nods shakily.

This is not going according to plan. At. All.

"Go!"

I pick a fragmentation grenade from my belt and toss it next to the nearest tree.

"COME ON! FRESH MEAT!" I yell, hip firing my carbine in the dry trees surrounding us.

Those trees, knowing their prey has spotted them, resume moving and acting like Deathclaws.

Which means; charging at me with every intention of clawing my face off.

There's six of them and my clip's empty; one's limping, thanks to a grenade blowing off a good hunk of its right leg.

Time to bail.

I sprint as hard as my legs can carry me, noting my cargo is already at the tower.

Damn she's fast.

Everyone's fast when there are Deathclaws around, but still…

I feel something hot against the back of my neck.

OH SHIT!

I hit the ground and… *Crack*

SHIIIIT!

The Deathclaw tried to leap on me, but I ducked just in time, yet it landed on my arm, pulverizing some of the bones.

Why can't I come back from an op with all my bits intact?

Karma, I guess.

The fuck is that? Philosophy 101? MOVE!

I stab the huge foot pinning my arm and the Deathclaw jumps in surprise.

That's all I need; I take off like a Gecko on speed, squeeze past two other surprised giants lizards and drop my pack along the way.

My feet barely touch the ground as I sprint like I had the devil on my tail.

I hear a Deathclaw growls.

I kinda do have the devil after me, come to think of it.

Fuck, my hearth is going to blow!

I reach the tower and climb it.

Don't ask me how, I don't know; one second I'm at its base, the next I'm halfway up.

All six Deathclaws glare at me from the ground.

"Fuck. You." I laugh at their annoyed faces.

I don't hate them, like most wastelanders, they're a lot like me; monsters to most of the world, not by choice, but by nature. If they don't act like monsters, they'll starve, their kids will starve.

You can't hate someone or something for trying to live, can you?

I look up at the priestess; she's hugging a metal bar like a baby Koala…

The fuck's a Koala anyway?

"You ain't getting any steak today, pals; Fuck off!" I yell to the angry Deathclaws under me.

One of the bigger lizards jumps and snaps its jaws, hissing like a perforated tire.

"Whatever."

Then, my body remembers I have a broken arm and decides to warn me about it.

Fuck that hurt!

I grab one of the Med-X syringes and shoot two CC of vitamin M into my arm.

That's better… Why do I always see Molerats when I'm on Med-X?

Alright… Now what?

Lets see… Broken electrical wires hanging from the top of the tower, not a fucking thing around except the boarded up house, there, rocks here and there, but none high enough to get us out of the Giant mole… Uh, Deathclaws' reach…

I could call for backup… But I left my comm. equipment in the pack.

Still got my headset, though, but without the radio, its just a fashion item.

I look up at the Mole… What? Oh, right, Med-X.

I glance at the priest and suddenly get an idea.

What is it? No clue; but I'm sure it's brilliant!

I begin climbing up to my Koa… uh… Legion girl.

I need to drag myself up with one hand, then swing my legs around the metal bar, struggle until I'm on the bar, not hanging under it, then repeat the process.

Takes me half an hour to reach her.

I end up on the same diagonal beam as here.

"Hey, you got some pretty developed thigh muscles!" I laugh.

She looks down, realize what kind of view I must have from where I am and blushes.

"I should punch you off the tower."She hiss.

"Why don't you?"

"Don't want to fall you idiot junky."

"That was hurtful, but I admit I'm a high as ball right now."

I look at the Deathclaws.

"Yeah, cute lill' ratties, fuck off."

"That's your plan? Tell them they're cute and to leave?"

Plan? Oh yeah! My plan!

"Nope, actually, I'll need you to do something very stupid and dangerous for both our sakes."

"Wow, sounds fun, can't wait to hear it."

"I knew you'd like that. See those electrical wires? I need you to grab the longest one and use it to swing yourself on the roof of that house, there. Then tie it up to something so my junky ass can get there too, understand?"

She glares at me.

"I really hate you."

"Tell you what, darling; the feeling is mutual. Now go swing that nice lill' ass of yours."

The molerat sighs and gets moving.

Wait, what?


	20. The Snake and the Vulture

**A/N: Ugh... Romance... I suck at it, really... No puns intended. :/**

**Frontier: Amen to that.**

**Fenrir15: My bad.**

**God and the Snake: Yup. (Sounded adequate.)**

"I'm not really sure about this…" She begins as I explain her how to do it for the third time.

"Yeah, well, better you than me."

"What?"

"Nothing. Go!" I give her a hard shove as she leaps forward.

At mid swing, she loosen her grip and quickly move down toward her target.

I close my eyes as she's about to hit the roof.

Guess what, Legion girl actually did it!

Now I got to find a way to slide down the wire with only one arm without killing myself.

I slowly make my way to my end of the thing and wrap my legs around it, then my a…

FUUUUCK!

I tighten my grip, but only scorch the skin off my hand and thighs.

That, is going to hurt. Actually, not right away, since I'm totally stoned, but later, it will.

Next thing I know, I'm laying on an old, dusty couch, the smell of rotting carpet and wood assaulting my nostrils.

I try to get up but pain flares in my ribs and arm.

"Do not move!" A soft voice orders.

A firm hand pushes me down to the couch.

"What happened?" I mutter.

Talking hurts. So does breathing, thinking and pretty much living.

"You crashed trough the roof. Pretty convenient, since I really don't know how we would have gotten in otherwise. I think you bruised some ribs and broke your leg."

"Glad to be of use." I scoff.

Ouch…

She smiles as I grimace in pain.

"Yeah, laugh it up, girl. Ow…" I whine.

I cough and feel all tingly.

"Shit, I'm going to be sick." I state, flatly.

She brings me a bucket and I practically shove my head in it.

I hate that feeling, like vomit is trying to force its way trough your skin.

Hmm… When did I eat carrots? Why is it that I always puke carrots, I never eat carrots.

Only after this inspired reflection do I realize she's stroking my back.

Well, at least she cares.

Crazy bitch.

I turn to take a good look at her.

Her hairs now seem more red than brown, but she attached a red ribbon in them to make some sort of pony-tail, so I guess it's just an illusion.

Her eyes are burning and cold. Angry and sad. Killer's eyes…

Despite all the dust on it, her face is still the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Not sure why though, she doesn't have anything out of the ordinary, her lips are thin and dry, her mouth is slightly larger than most, her nose is straight all along except the tip that seems to perk up, her eyes, however, have an intensity about them I've only seen once, not sure when.

Then it hits me.

James.

Three Years earlier.

_Jared had observed the man for days now; his habits, whether he seemed able to defend himself, his weaknesses… He was now ready to move in for the kill._

_Man was a good guy, no doubt, but he was also an idiot. Wanted to start some purifier to clean all the water in the wasteland. Like that'd ever happen._

_What really would happen was that some asshole or another would take control of the purifier and use it to boss peoples around. Hell, Jabsco could very well be that asshole! Water in the wasteland meant power and by giving it away for free, this guy would anger many powerful peoples._

_But the Merc didn't complain; he was being paid lots of caps by those same peoples just to kill that retard, easy money, really._

_He was hiding in a pile of rubbles under a gray blanket, .308 Rifle in hand waiting for his target to come out of the metro to Rivet city._

_A Radroach scurried out the entrance._

_The assassin flicked the safety off and aimed down the scope._

…

_Nothing._

_Something circular touched him in the back._

"_Don't move, kiddo, I don't want to kill you."_

_How! No one could sneak up on him! _

_Jared didn't move._

_Opportunities will present themselves, recognize and exploit them! Desmond always said._

"_You are James."_

"_Yes." The older man spoke, softly. "Get up, hands behind your head." _

_The merc obeyed._

_The man's weapon grazed the top of Jared's spine._

_Now._

_He whipped around and…_

_*Bang!*_

_The pain was horrible; like having a red hot fire poker stuck in the stomach._

_Asshole really did pull that trigger!_

_Cole fell to his knee and clutched his chest._

"_Nice shot." He laughed before passing out from the pain ._

_The young assassin woke up on a bed in a metal room._

_Rivet city._

_The old man was there too, sitting on a bench with Jared's mission briefing in hand._

_Seeing the kid was awake, James started reading out loud:_

"Target used to work on Project Purity until wife died… Disappeared for twenty years… Reappeared a week ago, voicing his desire to finish the project… Cannot be allowed to. Orders are to TERMINATE "

_The kid tried to get up, but he was not so used at being wounded and the pain forced him back down._

"_Easy, son, I patched you up as best I could, but you should avoid doing anything straining for a while."_

"_Straining?" _

"_Moving, talking, breathing." The older man explained with a slight smile._

_His smile faded._

"_Your employers seem to think they can decide who lives and dies out there; it's time they understand they can't control everyone's life. I will make them understand. Make sure they know I know about them and that, once Project Purity is finished, I will see to it that their organization crumbles."_

_Jared stared at the man for a long time._

_This man's eyes had a look about them; a purpose._

_This guy would do what's right or die trying._

"_Peoples like you are just dogs of war, you fight for whoever holds your leash without asking questions. You're just a kid and I think you deserve a second chance, now its up to you. You're not my problem anymore."_

_Jared tried to talk, but the other man was already leaving._

"_Don't take it the wrong way," James said, opening the room's door. "But I hope we never meet again."_

_Jared felt very tired all of a sudden._

Did I fall unconscious? I try to glance at my watch, but my arm refuses to move.

Bitch tied me up!

Wait… Nope; just tied my left arm against my body with duct tape and a stick of some kind, to keep it straight.

Good thinking. Where is she?

I force myself to my feet and look around.

I'm in the living room, the door on my right leads to the kitchen, the one in front to the bathroom and the one right next to it is closed.

I limp to the closed door and crack it open.

There she is; sleeping on the bed.

I look at her for a few seconds. She doesn't look like such a bitch when she's sleeping; hard to believe someone like her would be able to kick my ass like that.

What the fuck? Remember the plan; snap her neck and drop her in a ditch…

Thing is, this idea doesn't sound as much fun anymore.

I close back the door and head for one of the windows.

It's boarded up real good, but I find a small creak to peek trough.

Can't see anything that looks like a Deathclaw, which is not necessarily a good thing.

I drag my ass to the kitchen and inspect every cabinet.

Lots of Fancy Lad snack cakes and Porks&Beans.

I open the refrigerator.

Most of the stuff is rotting, but there is a few Nuka-Colas and some water.

Oh well, at least we won't starve.

Now, where are my smokes?

Oh yeah, in my backpack.

I sigh and head back to the couch.

Something rams into the window I was peeking trough, shaking the whole house.

"Shit!" I hear Legion girl scream from the room.

I pull my 10mm from its holster and kneel behind a dusty shelf.

The Deathclaw rams itself in the wall twice more before giving up with an enraged snarl.

I force myself back up, hissing as my ribs scream their disagreement.

"Cain," I hear the Priestess call, "Are you alright?"

"No! I'm out of smokes!"

She gets out of the room and I notice she's wearing a yellow RedRacer jumpsuit.

When I ask about it she gives me a death glare.

"Might make me look like some sort of giant Banana, but at least it prevents pervert from checking my ass."

"Come on now, you could wear a Power Armor you'd still look stunning… And I'd still check your ass… Better give it up right away."

She tilts her head on the side, slightly, as if she heard a weird sound.

"That was amazingly close to a compliment, Mister Cain." She muses in a playful tone.

Uhm... Right, Whatever.

Why do I feel like the roles just switched?

"So," I begin, trying to change the subject. "What is your name, anyway?"

"Valeria." She answers without hesitation.

She answered too fast; she was expecting me to ask her and had her answer ready. Not something you do when the question is about your name, unless you are using someone else's name.

I sit on the couch and she sits right next to me.

"How old are you, Valeria?" I ask, trying to look detached but watching every details.

This is not a question she expected. Nor likes.

"I'm twenty two, why?"

"Just curious. How did you end up with that post at twenty-two?"

"I'm good with children…" She gives me a look that makes it clear I should not push further. "How about you, Cain? Where are you from?"

I think about it for a few seconds.

"East, not sure exactly where." I finally admit.

"Ooh, that's cryptic. How comes you don't know?"

"Got shot in the face and lost most of my long-term memory. All I remember is that I used to live in a stadium when I was five or eight, before that, I don't remember." Why am I telling her this?

Her eyes never leave mine.

"How did you become a mercenary?" She asks softly.

"I was angry; I wanted to kill those who had killed my friends… There was a merc group that was openly at war with them, so I joined up. Now, I do it because it's all I know, and I'm the best at what I do."

She nods slowly. She knows if she asks me any more question, it'll be suspicious.

Outside, a Deathclaw scratches on the brick wall behind us, growling in frustration.

Val jumps in surprise and brings her legs on the couch, shaking in fear.

Once again, can't blame her, residual Med-X is all that keeps me from shaking too.

The Deathclaw ram itself in the wall, sending something like electric jolt up my spine as my body gets ready to run or fight. I relax myself, but Valeria just seems on the verge of nervous breakdown.

She brings her legs up and cuddles against my shoulder, crying softly.

Damn, that girl's nuts! Once second she's some professional interrogator in perfect control of the situation, the next one she's just a scared little girl looking for some comforting.

I put my arm around her neck, thinking about how the fuck I'm going to get out of this alive.

Quite frankly, I got a weird feeling I won't.


	21. Red Lizard Is Revealed

**A/N: Just... Don't hurt yourselves trying to follow all that going on her, guys, it'll all be explained soon (Proofreading this chapter made my head hurt. O_o)**

**Frontier Productions: No and I still haven't decided.**

**God and the Snake: I'm debating that right now, stay tuned and find out, I guess.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone! I appreciate it!**

**I own nothing. :/ **

After the Deathclaw stops bashing away at the wall, Valeria finally drifts asleep.

I watch the girl for a few minutes.

Something feels wrong with her; she obviously had a lot of training but shows very little emotional maturity, going from pissed scared to furious in a heartbeat. Its not logical, you can't be a professional and an amateur at the same time…

Unless she's faking it.

But then, why would she?

Ugh… Even thinking hurt.

I stroke her head for a few minutes then pretend to fall asleep; after two minutes, I imitate a light snore. I just remembered that time with Dusk, when she contacted the rebels while I was sleeping.

Five minutes later, she stirs and walk to the bedroom.

Next thing I hear makes me want to snap her neck again.

"Kodiak, this is Snake, come in." she whispers.

I hear her walk back to the door to make sure I'm sleeping.

I shift a bit and resume snoring.

"Subject is wounded, transportable… Yes… I understand. No, the cover worked, but its blown now; are you sure it was worth it? Damnit! No sir, I am not!"

She sighs and go sit on the bed. I get off the couch and try to avoid walking on planks I know are creaky.

"Yes… You are my employer, sir, I will do as you ask, but… No, sir, you hold my contract, but you have no right giving me orders like that. No, he is not! How? I know it, that's all, if he commanded Talon Company he would have asked for their help by now… Are you sure? No, I'm not quest… Okay, I'll do as you ask, but I want you to know I will not like it… Because he's nicer than all of you assholes, that's why! Yeah, fuck you too, sir!"

She leaves the room and curse upon seeing my legs disappear trough the hole in the roof.

Just in time.

"Cain! Wait!"

Too late, I'm already on top of the house, gun aimed at the hole.

"Don't come up, Valeria!" I warn, "Or I'll blow that pretty face of yours."

She still pops her head trough the hole.

Damn shame.

I fire twice, both shots way too high.

"Shit!" She dives back in.

I can hear the 'claws move around the house, excited by the sudden activity.

I'm really screwed; Legion assassin in the house, Deathclaws outside.

"Come on, Cain! Be reasonable! Let's talk!"

Yeah right, so she can give me some logical explanation? Or maybe Kodiak is actually the name of some government official that wants to hire me? Fucking bitch!

"Alright!" I yell, "I'm listening!"

"You are going to stay on the roof?"

Fucking right I am.

I look around me; Nothing but sand and wrecks.

I am leaning on my back, pistol held in my good hand and aimed at the hole. My wounded leg is throbbing, the scorches on my hands and thighs burning like someone was pouring acid on them and my ribs make every heartbeat hurt like a bullet wound.

I'm way too scrapped to run or fight.

"Yup."

"Very well, then; I am a contractor with a very powerful group back west… You ever heard of the NCR?"

"Nope."

She curses under her breath.

"Listen, I was undercover in the Legion… It's a long story and I must admit I don't feel like telling it all… Lets just say my employers have interest in you, as well as Talon Company. Please, come back in!"

"Not just yet!"

Infiltrated? It would explain some things… And bring up some more questions; How did they know I'd be in the temple? That I wouldn't shoot their agent? The way she speaks, they don't know I'm with Talon Company… Of course, during each of my ops, I try to avoid being linked to the Company, so I can see why they'd doubt… This means someone inside has been leaking info, but only fragmentary.

She doesn't know I lead Talon Company, which gives me the upper hand; if, of course, she's telling the truth.

Then again, I'm the one with the gun…

"How did you know I was coming?" I ask, after a few seconds.

"What do you mean?"

"What I said; answer!"

"I don't know! I've been working undercover for eight years now!"

"What! How is that even possible?"

No answer. That's not a pro's attitude, she really is desperate… Or extremely good at that game.

"Sorry, girl, but I don't trust you, you're still lying!' I hiss. "Maybe there is some truth in what you're saying, but I know you're hiding something!"

"Its my job, I'm always hiding something!"

Well, that was forthcoming.

I crawl next to the hole and peek in.

She's sitting on the floor, holding her head in her hands.

She's a professional, that much I'm certain of by now, but she obviously lost control of the situation and, as a professional, that's making her very upset.

"Listen," She calls, not bothering to look up, "I promise you we're on the same side; I don't know what my employers want, nor who you actually are, but I was ordered to gather information about you, gain your trust , find out if you were linked with Talon Company and, if you weren't, bring you to my employers. That's it, but it's important enough to them that they'd be willing to compromise a decade of work just to contact you. Please, don't do anything stupid; if you die, I'll be useless to my employers and they'll leave me to be eaten of found by the Legion!"

Now I understand why she seems about to have an attack; VIP protection is hard, much harder when the VIP thinks he's the one protecting you…Fucking Super-spy bullshit is making my head spin… Might be the sun too.

"Alright, I trust you;" I finally call, making her look up with hope. I grin and add: "No fucking idea why, but I do. Don't make me regret it." She sigh and nod a few times.

I try to lower myself trough the hole slowly but end up landing on my ass.

"Ow."

Val giggles.

"Wow, are you sure you're a professional killer?"

"Right now, I'm seriously doubting. Help me up." I groan.

She hesitantly help me get on my feet and bring me to the bedroom.

"So… You heard all I said?"

I nod and, for some reason, she blushes.

I sit on the bed and she go sit on a drawer, opposite to me.

"We need to talk." I speak up.

She nod shortly.

"You talked about a contract back there; tell me about it."

She frowns, like I just told her she has a few kilos to loose.

"It's my contract, I am linked to it since my birth, anyone who buys my contract automatically become my employer and can require my services for combat and infiltration." She sighs, her head seems heavy all of a sudden and she leans on the wall. "I had to work my way trough the casts of the Legion, use my wits and looks to reach a post high enough to be useful… Shit, my formation wasn't even done yet!  
But it worked, I was in a position to influence the Legion, if only a bit, and gain useful intels… Then, you came along, they knew you were coming because Talon Company knew, but they weren't sure what your goal was… Actually, they seemed to think you were going to try and kill me."

Because Talon Company knew… It seems they have only a very general and blurred view of our ops. Whoever is leaking info must be low ranked, but have access to our troop movements and ops planning.

Comm. Officer?

"You think your employer could be the one that hired me? " I ask, trying to use new developments to solidify my cover.

She nods slowly, seeming about to pass out from exhaustion.

"That's possible, would be like them to organize every detail like that."

I frown and analyze her again. She has no weapon, no equipment whatsoever and her jumpsuit is too form fitting for her to hide anything under it.

"What do you use to contact them?"

She points to her head.

"Sub-dermal implants."

"So, for all I know, you could be making that up or be completely insane."

"Pretty much." She smiles weakly her eyes closed.

Wonder-fucking-ful. I need to drink something.

I get back on my feet and her eyes snap open.

"Where are you going?" She asks, clearly worried.

"I'm getting myself a Nuka-Cola, want one?"

She relaxes a bit and nod, fixing me with a cold glare. _Don't you fucking run out on me again._

"Yeah, sure…"

I limp my way out of the room, using my Carbine as a crutch, and tell a Deathclaw to shut the fuck up as I pass a window, hearing an hungry snarl.

I kick the fridge's door open and gap two bottles of Cola. I try to close the door for a few seconds before realizing nobody gives a shit.

The Nukas are warm and very probably flat, but hey, Nuka's Nuka and it's better than water.

When I reach the bedroom, Val is in the bed, snoring lightly.

Oh well. I put the Nuka on the drawer, lie down next to the Pri.. Uh, spy… I mean… What the fuck is she even supposed to be!

I debate about it with myself for a few minutes before pulling the book on Anchorage from my rear ammo pouch, opening it at a random page again.

_-Crimson Dragoon ambush point. Of course, we were all nervous; we were trying to ambush stealth masters, this could only go wrong, but the brass would have none of it. "American Soldiers cannot be surpassed by commies on american soil! Unthinkable!" Fucking retards. _

_The colonel was so angry, I had never seen him like this. In the end, though, he accepted this as another challenge and started planning the ambush, thinking and rethinking stuff so in dept I simply lost track of how far he was gone._

_As far as I understood it, he wanted to post a squad in the most obvious ambush spot possible, hide two more squads nearby and wait for the first squad to be ambushed then send the others to flank the enemy._

_However, that was just the first layer of his plan, since he figured the enemy commander would see this coming and only send a small group to attack the ambushers, forcing the others to reveal themselves before sending his whole force; he decided to send only his most hardened soldiers in the first squad, s__o they could hold their position long enough for the Reds to decide this wasn't a trick but somewhat of an insult and charge in…_

_I'm sure there were many more plans within this one, but I really don't know much more._

_So we camped on the cliff face, freezing our asses off because HQ refused to let us light fires. Too dangerous, they said._

_In the morning, we set up our positions like the colonel had said and waited._

"_Any minute now." Lieutenant Morgan would say on the radio._

_Fucking Reds never came. We camped on that cliff for two days and never saw a single Chinese._

_We still lost two boys to hypothermia and had to cut some fingers because of frostbites. _

_Score one for military "Intelligence". _


	22. Play The Game

**A/N: Ugh... Computer failed, had to re-write the whole chapter -_-' Sorry about the delay and shortness...**

**God and the Snake: Yup, I noticed there are tons of stories about Charon out there, but none about the group that raised him. And yes, Kelly will show up again with her bunch of misfits... Lots of fun incoming.**

Just as I'm about to close my book, I hear the floor creak.

Someone's walking in the house, trying to be quiet.

I think they're already in front of the bedroom.

I get up and kneel behind the drawer. The thing shakes when my wounded knee hit it and something dark falls.

I catch it right before it hits the ground.

Nuka-Cola bottle.

I put it down and raise my Carbine.

Whoever came in here should have made sure we knew they were friendly; so this guy's either an amateur, or an enemy. World's better off without both.

The doorknob turns and I fire two shots trough the wood.

The guy on the other side groans and curse.

Gottcha.

I run… Well, limp at somewhat high speed… to the door

Blood on the floor, forming a trail, leading to behind the couch.

"Val! Wake up!"

No reaction from the girl. Hard sleeper, just my luck.

I fire a few shots trough the couch, but do not hear anything.

Guy's not there.

I look at the blood trails again.

I missed a few splotches the first time. It doesn't lead to the couch, but to the hole in the cieling.

Fucker got away.

Or wants me to believe he did.

I back away in the room, slowly, my gun trained at every shadows.

A glance at my watch tells me its 1400 hour.

For one second, I get that old, deeply incrusted need to report to my superiors and ask for their advices, but I can't, I'm the boss now…

Wonder if the others are looking for me right now.

Probably not, they have their orders for the next month and they know I'm on an infiltration job, so they probably figure I'll contact them when I'll fucking feel like it.

"Valeria, wake up, god damnit!" I snap, slamming the door behind me.

She opens her eyes and yawn.

"What?"

"Someone tried to sneak up on us."

"Who? When?" She yelps, getting off the bed in a second.

"Dunno, just now."

"Why didn't you wake me."

"…Fuck you."

"In your dream." She snaps faster than I expected.

Well, she's got bite, maybe she was just tired earlier.

"Oh, my dreams are a lot more explicit, darlin'" I tease before dodging a pillow.

"Pervert."

"You're just too uptight to admit you love it, now, if you don't mind, could we go back to the guy that tried to kill us?"

She nod and walk to the door.

"What did he look like?"

"Dunno, ran off before I could see him."

"How do you know he was hostile?" Is that… Yup, she's mad at me alright.

"Val, tell me he didn't work with you."

"Maybe he did, can't know; you shot him."

What? The guy was sneaking up on us, what was I supposed to do?

"His bad."

"You're the one who's trigger happy and its his bad!" She yells, clearly pissed.

"Let's imagine one second the guy was Legion, coming to slice my throat and rape you, you still think I did wrong?"

"We'll never know now, huh? He might have a way pass the Deathclaws too!"

Okay, she's right. If the guy made it here, he had to know how to get pass the claws and I should have captured him to make him talk, but I am wounded, tired and confused, I really wouldn't give much of a fight in close combat right now so I got to rely on my guns and wits.

I tell her just that and she sighs.

"It's not your fault, I should have woken up; you're wounded, I should be protecting you, not the other way around."

We both stare at each others for a few seconds. She seems like she wants to say something else, but no words are coming.

Whatever.

I lie back down and hand her my pistol.

"Wow, what'd I do to earn this mark of trust?" She muses.

I roll my eyes. "Shut up, you're on guard, I need to sleep. Wake me in six hours."

"You got it." She answers in a cold, conditioned manner.

* * *

Washington DC. RFK Stadium.

"_Thomas! You need to see this!" The woman yelped to her husband who was taking a nap in the locker room._

_The middle aged man growled and got off his bed._

_He and his wife were on guard duty, checking the south entrance of the stadium to prevent beasts and savages to enter._

_His wife, Erika, dragged him all the way to the door and quickly unlocked it._

"_He's alone! Poor boy, you should have seen him, mustn't have eaten in weeks!"_

_Thomas tilted his head on the side. Sometimes, being a mute had its perks; no one ever bothered you with stupid questions, you could communicate with your family and friends without anyone eavesdropping, because nobody bothered to learn sign language._

_However, it also had its downsides; like being unable to ask your crazy wife what the fuck she's talking about because she won't look at you._

_Erika finally opened the door and rushed outside._

_Thomas followed her, wearily, his .45 held firmly._

_Ten meters ahead, standing in the middle of the ruins, was a small shaky figure, holding a torn and battered backpack in one hand clutching a piece of paper in the other._

_The kid looked tired, hungry and lost, but not frightened; He didn't look like a child that lost his parent, more like one that ran away on them._

"_Hey!" Erika called. The boy jumped in surprise. She had interrupted his day-dreaming._

_He turned and ran off._

"_Tom! Do something! He'll die out there!"_

_Of course, have the mute soldier catch the scared kid…_

_Tom holstered his gun, laced his shoes and broke into a sprint._

_His muscles screamed their protest at going from idle to full burn, but he ignored it, focusing on the small shape in front of him._

_The kid reached a wall twice his size, with a wrecked car half buried in it._

_He leapt on the car and used it to launch himself over the obstacle._

_Tom followed two seconds after and quickly looked around._

_He was in the remains of a skyscraper, from the looks of it._

_The kid was five meters ahead, surrounded by seven savages._

_Some of them had severed hands hung on their belts._

_They all looked at Tom, who was still kneeling in the dirt._

_The kid backed slowly toward the soldier, who stepped in front of him, defensively. _

"_Don't play hero, stupid fuck!" One of the Savages hissed._

_Tom threw his jean jacket aside, revealing his riot armor, and rolled his shoulders. _

"_Alright, fuck-o, you asked for it!" The same savage roared, rushing forward with a… Tire Iron?_

_Tom pistol wiped his face and opened fire on the others._

_They replied and he shoved the kid away from their firing line before rolling behind a support beam._

_Three seconds later, Tom leapt out of cover, running and spinning to avoid giving the others a clear shot until he himself had a good angle. He then kneeled and fired twice. _

_Two raiders fell, the rest took cover again._

_This time, Tom went straight for where they were hiding, behind a pile of cinder blocks, and rolled over their cover._

_Most of them were reloading, the one that wasn't was just too slow. _

_Three shots and three of them bit the dust. The last two backpedaled from the soldier while firing their 10mm at him._

_Tom answered by emptying his clip -except one bullet, which remained in the cannon so he wouldn't have to pull back the slide- ejecting the spent magazine and shoving fresh ones so fast it felt like he was holding a machine gun._

_This was his game, and nobody played it like him._

_Both savages soon panicked and fled, leaving Tom and the kid alone._

_The boy grabbed Tom's jacket and brought it back to him, earning a short nod._

_Neither of them spoke a word, one because he'd never spoke in his whole life anyway, the other simply because he was mute._


	23. Dragons and Vultures

**A/N: Guh, writer's block now. I have _MANY _ideas, but I just can't seem to find a way to squeeze them in... Guess I'll just finish introducing the major players and then the story can really get started... Don't quit yet, it's far from done guys ;)**

**Frontier Production: o_O If you say so xD**

**God and the Snake: What got you confused? And thanks! I still can't believe this got so much attention, I thought this fic would go totally unnoticed o_O.**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! And even more if you do both!**

"… Careful; if he wakes up, I'm letting him shoot your ass… Again."

Hmm? Is that Val?

"Wow, Jackie, you make me feel so much safer." A male voice hiss. I decide to keep my eyes close, for now; let's see what we can find out.

"Don't speak so loud, that guy's a psycho, you idiot!" She responds in an annoyed tone. "What do you want?"

"A stimpack and Fancy Lad Snack Cake, but that'll wait… Say, why are you two in the same b… Well, room."

I can _hear_ Val's blush.

"What? What's that question? There's Deathclaws outside, we're looking out for each others, which means, keeping the other within view at all time. God damned amateur."

"Wow, okay… Sure… Whatever, I'm here to bring him in, they want me to sedate him and call for exfil."

I try to locate where the voices are in the room.

Val sounds like she's sitting on the bed and the man seems to be near the door.

"That's not going to end well."

"It's procedure." The man answers, flatly.

"Okay," Val sighs, "Give me the chems, I'll take care of it, if he wakes up I'll tell him it was Med-X."

I feel her move on the bed and have to hold back a smile; this is gonna be fun.

Just as I feel her hand on my forehead, trying to hold it steady for the injection, I realize playing along might just be my only chance of getting out of her alive, so I opt for the wait and see approach and… Well, wait and see.

Last thing I know, Val's asking just how they are going to get me out of there.

* * *

Location Unknown.

Time Unknown.

No molerats, so I'm not tripping on Med-X.

God, I hate Molerats.

I open my eyes and…

Aw fuck! It burns!

Some idiot had one of those surgery spotlight shine right in my face!

Damn that cock-sucking-mutant-hugging-shit-eating son of a whore, I'm going to fucking rip his spine and bash his skull with it! Whoever it is!

I jump from the metal bed and look at the floor, but it's in all polished steel sheets so, once again, I feel like there are drills going trough my skull.

"Fuck's sake somebody kill those lights!" I yell. Covering my face with my arm.

Oh man, I feel like my hearth is in my skull and trying to beat its way out. Not pleasant.

I remove my arm from my eyes, keeping those sealed shut.

My eyelids grow an angry red.

Bastards didn't kill the light.

Only then do I realize my arm, ribs and leg feel just fine; those guys probably got me trough an auto-doc.

I also realize they stripped me of all my gear and I'm now wearing something… light…

Shit seems like paper.

I pat around for a while, find the light's pole, then the power cable for the light and finally tear the fuck out of it.

"Should have shut the fucking light when I asked you, assholes!" I snarl, opening one eye, hesitantly.

Still hurts like a bitch with the neon on the ceiling, but at least it doesn't burn so much anymore.

Now where the fuck am I?

Square room. Empty, beyond the metal bed I woke up in, a door and a terminal.

I walk to the terminal, there is two sentences written on it.

**Jackal: Good morning, Cain, I am Jackal.**

**Jackal: Cain? Are you alright? What's wrong?**

Bastard lost his cool; I thought they had me for one second, but if they worry about me, that mean I'm still leading the show. A new message shows up.

**Jackal: Ah, you are sensible to strong lighting…**

I type my answer:

**Me: Fuck you, and open the door.**

**Jackal: I could, but you must know; you are in a heavily guarded facility. I can help you escape, but only by giving you advices and unlocking doors on your way; you will have to either fight or avoid the security forces… They have orders to shoot you on sight.**

**Me: How comes I woke up?**

**Jackal: I changed your dosage to that of a 10y-o; they are scheduled to give you another dose in 5 minutes.**

**Me: Better scram then.**

**Jackal: That's the idea. I'm unlocking the door now, good luck.**

I look at the white paper hospital gown I'm wearing.

God damn this shit.

The door opens on a white corridor with strange openings on the wall, floor and ceilings.

Looks like tracks of sort…

I go back to the table and unscrew the surgery light from in, keeping the pole and round sections as makeshift club and shield.

"Watch out, bitches, I'm gonna poke you to death with my pointy stick." I growl.

That came out more perverted than I would have wanted…

I step in the weird corridor and throw the round section at the other end of the room.

Light bulbs shatter in mid flight and the thing gets cut in five pieces.

Lasers… Great.

I glance at the terminal next to the door.

**Jackal: P.S. Watch out for the lasers.**

Son of a bitch.

**Me: Shut them off, retarded creep.**

**Jackal: Can't, would trigger an alarm and release toxic gas in your area. I can modify the spectrum so you can see them, though.**

**Me: Fuck this, I'll just wait five minutes for them to come give me my dose then beat the shit out of everyone.**

**Jackal: Interesting plan. I'll be sure to record it so future generations can see the great Cain get his ass handed to him.**

**Me: Go fuck a Yao Guai.**

**Jackal: Alright, be right back.**

I face palm at that and check my weapon.

1.5 meters long lightweight metal stick… I'm not really trained at fighting with sticks, but our instructors did cover blunt weapons fighting, in case we had to club the fuck out of somebody.

It's really the only instruction they gave us when it comes to close combat: Stab, club, bash, tear and, in last resort, punch the fuck out of them until they don't pose a threat anymore.

I go prone on the left side of the door; peoples always expect stuff to attack from the right, thanks to all those horror movies.

I don't have to wait much as I almost immediately hear footsteps nearby.

The door on the other side of the room slides open with a hiss and I step back, weapon ready.

I hear anxious chatter. They found the pieces of metal on the floor.

Someone runs trough the corridor and a weapon appear trough the door.

Like a Chinese assault rifle, but completely black; new. The hand holding the grip appears a split second later -completely covered in black- and I swing my weapon down, breaking some bones with a loud crack.

The guy drops the weapon with a yell and I reflexively put my right foot under it to somewhat slow its fall.

It lands on my bare foot, scorching my skin, and just stays there, in perfect balance.

One jerk of my leg later, it's in my hands.

Oh fuck, that was badass! Why is nobody looking when I do badass stuff like that?

Another asshole runs trough the door, barely more than a black blur, and I press the trigger, spraying blood on the opposite wall.

Those guys are either amateurs or totally retarded!

I peek in the corridor.

One ghoul with a lab coat and two guards with that same black armor The Lone Wanderer was wearing.

Odd, I thought it was unique.

I fire a burst in the one on the right of the room, who seemed to have noticed me, and the others duck trough the door.

Now their getting somewhat smart.

Dumb fucks.

I know it's all Val's employer evaluating my fighting skills alright, but they gave their guys live ammo and those lasers were very fucking real, so I'm outta here, fuck all this!

The guy who's wrist I broke a few second earlier moans and I kick him in the head before removing his helmet.

I put the thing on and watch the HUD.

It's in fucking Chinese.

I tap a button on the side of my head and numbers appear.

Radio freq; bingo.

Just under the button is a small dial; I turn clockwise and the numbers start decreasing, I move it counter-clockwise until I reach Lieutenant Darling's frequency.

"Hey, Darling, it's me, Cain, don't say anything, I want you to run an encryption on the…" One of the armored guys pops his head trough the door and I shoot a burst at him, forcing his brain out . "… On the frequency, understood?"

No answer.

"Darling?"

"Stop calling me that, boss, for fuck's sake! Channel encrypted. What's up, Captain?"

"You got a zero on my location?"

"Affirmative… The fuck you doing there, by the way?"

"Don't ask, I need you to pluck me out of this shit hole, bring ZEUS and a few squads, lot's of possible loot."

"Amen, I'll get Calico to authorize the op."

I quickly put on the rest of the armor, noticing the previous wearer is a ghoul.

There's a button on one hand; I press it and my hand disappear.

Fuck yeah! Stealth field!

Alright, Jackal, time to cash out.

I glance at the terminal.

**Jackal: You're not really going to do that, are you?**

Yeah, I am.


	24. Fall of Zeus

**A/N: I know, last chapter Sucked -_-' I'll do better this time, I swear xD **

**

* * *

**

No alarm has been triggered, and no one even seems to notice me as I walk trough the hallways, in plain sight. Maybe because I killed all the witnesses of my escape and am now dressed like a guard with the full-face visor and all.

I stop at a terminal and the building's map it was showing disappears, replace by a single sentence.

**Jackal: Wait, we need to talk, go right.**

I do as told and turn right.

There's some weird logo at the other end of that hallway:

A long and sleek red lizard curled around a Yin-Yang symbol, two Chinese officer swords and some of those weird symbols they use as letters.

What bunch of weirdoes did I stumble on again! Seriously, can't I find anyone normal for once?

Come to think of it, Talon Company isn't what you'd call normal… Then again what is normality in the wastes, uh?

There is only one door, to the right. Pretty stylized too, with weird markings and some sort of red dragon head as a doorknob.

Before going trough it, however, I contact the LT and ask him how things are coming along.

"So, long story short; you're in a building in the middle of Nowhere land, an old hospital or research center. Never heard of it, so it's not Enclave, but they got some crazy AA and radar tech. Might be some outpost from the Institute… Or some other power we never heard of… ETA five minutes." 0

Hmm… Who the heck are those NCR guys?

I activate the stealth field and open the door.

This is some kind of office, pretty classy; with wooden desk , bookshelf and fancy paintings.

Valeria is standing next to an empty chair, behind the desk, a forced smile on her face. She's wearing one of their black armors, minus the helmet.

Well shit. I totally saw that one coming, but I'm still pissed.

"Cain." She greets with a nod. Fuck.

I deactivate the stealth field and slide up my visor, making eye contact.

So that's the real Val, huh? Her eyes look empty, dead; nothing like those she had back then… He hairs really are red; no clue why I thought they were brown, maybe she dyed them ore something.

I glare at her, trying to be mad, but I can't; she's just doing her job, like me, I turn to the chair and finally feel anger rising.

"Who are you?" I hiss at the slight shimmering.

A man -wearing the same armor as I do, but with some sort of cape and a shitload of swords and blades- uncloaks.

"Comrade Cain," His voice is raspy, like a ghoul's, and has a thick accent I really can't place. "It is good to see you made it here alive!" He doesn't really sound that thrilled to see me, more like he's reciting a text.

He lifts his hand and Val leaves the room.

"Now that you have passed our little test, I think it is time for introductions; I am Comrade Kodiak, leader of the first division, code named, Red Lizard."

He stops talking, I guess I should say something.

"I'm Cain. I have questions."

The man laugh, like it was some very amusing game.

Don't kill him yet, you still need the identity of the mole and Val's contract.

"I'm sure you have lots of questions about our organization and…"

"Nope," I cut him off; I don,t think I can take his bullshit much longer. "I just wondered; what's your beef with TC?"

He sounds disappointed.

"Talon Company… An interesting bunch, aren't they? My _beef_ is that they have a sword in their possession; it is unique and we want it."

"What's the pay?" I ask, not missing a beat.

The shocksword, assholes want the fucking shocksword I hung on the wall of my cabin.

"You get to keep that Hei Gui armor you took from one of our... unfortunate comrades, and… Well, what else could you possibly want?"

I think about it for a while. I need to gain some time until the back ups arrive…

"I want Val's contract." I demand.

"Who is Val?" The ghoul asks in a puzzled manner. Fucking bastard knows exactly who I'm talking about.

"The girl who just left."

"Ah! Jackal! An useful asset and loyal soldier, but her usefulness has come to an end and her loyalty falters. I think you should know your tactics to gain her trust seemed successful; she kept asking that we do not endanger you during the evaluation… Unfortunately, that also means we now need to get rid of her. We do not take kindly to such weakness."

My hearth is racing and anger is rising inside my skull like a wild beast struggling to free itself from its cage. The girl infiltrated the Legion for them, what did she say? Eight year long operation? Our Hitman crews refuse to work more that two months on a single infiltration, otherwise you start loosing yourself in your role. Val must be so messed up in her head she can't remember what her real name is! Those bastards show no gratitude for it, they have no respect, no loyalty to their men… I'll teach them, you'll see. After I've shaken every bits of intel I can off this ghoul.

Next topic:

"My informant in TC never told me anything about a sword." I muse, observing his reactions.

"Informant? You really are resourceful…" He didn't take the bait. I'm not giving up.

I bark a short laugh.

"Nah, bitch was for sale to anyone who had the caps; works in comm. operations."

Bin-fucking-go!

He tenses.

'Communication, you say? How strange."

"Not really, it's a good post to get intel, just need to find someone who's not happy with their work arrangement."

"What's his name?"

I laugh again.

"I gotta protect my sources, Kodiak…"

"Is it Beckett?"

"Nope." No one in the comm. unit is called Beckett; Kodiak smelled the bait, he's just testing me.

"Walsh?" Aha! Janine Walsh, Corporal.

"Corporal Walsh… Yeah, that's her alright… How…"

"That whore!" He yells, getting off his chair. "Said she wanted to serve the empire, but she's just a damn cheap whore! I'll have her gutted!" He's angry, weak; Time to finish this.

"Speaking of whore; you'll have Jackal killed, right?"

"Indeed…" Just after he explains how he will have her publicly shot soon, ZEUS' thundering voice invades every radio in the area.

"ZEUS' on the scene ; Beginning operation."

The man in front of me leaps from his chair and slash at me with one of his many swords. Just after this, an alarm sounds.

I block the hit, using my assault rifle.

"You _are _Jared Cole after all!" He hisses.

"Give me Val's contract and I give you the sword!" I bark in answer, only earning an enraged snarl.

Guy's still angry, he makes mistakes.

I shove his blade away and kick his desk hard enough to pin him on the wall.

"Go to hell! Imperialist scum!" Two more black figures with orange visors appear around me… Wait, orange visor? Stealth fields? Crimson Dragoons! Like in Anchorage!

They both have a sword in hand.

What did Montgomery say about fighting these guys?

Oh, yeah:

_Unless you outnumber them five to one; Run!_

I turn tail and… Freeze.

I want that contract.

Shit, I'm not really thinking about doing this? Fuck… I am…

What else did Benji write?

_One thing you can exploit against those fuckers is their sense of honor and loyalty; they think everyone has the same. Fight dirty and you'll have the edge, until they adapt, that is._

Time to see who's the best spec. ops, huh?

Just as I think that, something hard hits the back of my skull.

* * *

Outside the complex.

_Leon lifted his 50mm machine gun and unleashed a hail of bullets on the large shimmering in front of him, turning at least five commandos into a fine mist. _

"_Area secured." He declared, after sweeping the area, "Breaching."_

_With that, he dropped his machine gun in the hands of Alpha squad's demo guy, Rock, and walked next to the building's main door; well, it was more like a large sheet of titanium held in place by steel rods._

"_Hey, assholes! Knock, knock." He thundered before kicking the door with enough strength to bring down a part of the building's façade._

"_Oho-ly hell, did you see this shit!" The sniper, Mckiney, laughed. _

"_See? I was fucking under it!" Rock answered. "Door's still standing."_

_ZEUS frowned under his helmet and gave the titanium sheet a good shove._

_It fell back and crushed a bunch of enemy commandos._

"_No," He laughed, "It is not."_

"_Come on!" the lieutenant yelled, "I lost contact with Cole! Fall in everyone, shoot anything that moves!"_

"_Wilco!" _

_The Super-mutant and four shock troopers entered the building, guns blazing, ZEUS serving as mobile cover from the dozens of 5.56 rounds raining on them._

_Rain. That's exactly what it was to ZEUS, harmless and somewhat refreshing. Even if a bullet did pierce his armor, by some luck, it simply did not retain the velocity to pierce his thick skin; it did tickle a bit. _

_The lobby was slowly going from a glorious display of architecture to an especially fancy pile of rubbles with the statue in the middle crushed under the door, the receptionist desk, behind the statue, melted away by plasma fire, the two balconies, on either side of the room, second floor level, were brought down to the first floor by 50mm rounds._

_He stumbled backward when a missile struck him square in the back._

**WARNING: Internal Damages Detected.**

**Power Failures Detected.**

**Possible Fusion Pack Meltdown. **

**Shutting off.**

_ZEUS fell to a knee as his four optics stopped shining._

_The whole fighting stopped._

"_Fuck," McKiney breathed, "They got ZEUS!"_

_Then, the lens started shining a bright, angry red and the armor emitted a powerful roar as smoke rose from its frame._

**Emergency Power Pack Activated**

**Diesel Level High, Re-Fill in 6H.**

_Most hostiles in the area pretty much crapped their pants when the external speakers spouted that._

_Exactly three seconds later, they had all fled the room._

"_Area clear, proceeding to target zone."_

_Then, ZEUS and his support squad moved deeper in the building._


	25. Hei Gui Bye Bye

**A/N Sorry about the delay, I'm working on a new story... Still in developpment :/ all I know is that the main character is going to be the Demo from Anchorage... :D**

**Frontier Production: Yeah, I hear you pal, after two minutes I wanted to burn that house xD**

**God and the Snake: That was the intended effect :D *Evil laugh***

When I wake up, Val… I mean, Jackal's face is only a few inches from mine. I'm hung by the wrists to the ceiling, my feet barely touching the floor. I'm in some sort of interrogation room, alone with the girl.

I woke up to worst.

She slaps me when I say it out loud.

"If the Chinese decide to fire you, you can always find a job as a dominatrix; you're very good at it." I laugh, earning a punch in the guts.

"You lied to me! Made me look like an idiot in front of my employer!"

"What? What the fuck do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb!" She screams, punching me again, "You knew I was supposed to determine if you were with those Talons or not…"

"Who cares? Your bosses are going to burn your brain soon anyway."

I expected another punch, but don't get any.

"You lie," She hisses, "Just…"

"Okay, I didn't tell you I was Talon Company! So what? You lied to me plenty, you lied to the Legion and now you're lying to yourself!"

"Shut up!" She's losing control of the situation.

"You said you were NCR –The fuck is that anyway?-, you said your name was Valeria. You fucking drugged me in my sleep you back stabbing bitch!"

I just took the advantage; she's ashamed and it surpasses her anger.

Good for me, because she had some pretty long electrified metal sticks in her hands and I don't want to know where she was gonna stick'em…

"No! It's not how it…"

"You lie! I was awake! I heard you! Head that guy call you Jackie, heard you say I was a psycho and that you would let me shoot his ass again! I trusted you and you abused that trust!"

She seems shaken.

"You… You knew? Why didn't you do anything?"

"Like what? Kill you?"

"Why not? That's what you do, kill peoples! How am I any different?" She doesn't sound as angry as before, more like she's expecting me to say something, or at least hoping for it.

"I dunno, I guess I'm somewhat falling for that little mentally unstable side of yours…"

Wait… What? What the fuck did I just say? Why did I even say that?

She stares at me for a few seconds then frowns.

"You're still trying to mess with my head, you asshole!"

"Why would I, they messed it up plenty. What's your name?"

She seems taken aback by the sudden and stupid question.

"It's Jackal…"

"No," I breath, softly, as if I was speaking to a children, "What is the name you had at birth, the one your parents gave you?"

"P…Parents…"

Oh shit, that's worst than I thought.

"You do remember your parents, right?"

Her eyes suddenly stare over my shoulder as she retreats deep in her memories.

She jumps, as if feeling a sharp pain and glare at me again.

She's crying.

"I…S-stop! You won't fuck with me again! That's not working anymore!" She snarls, not seeming to believe it herself.

"What is not working anymore?" I ask, still keeping my voice low and reassuring.

Girl's still holding those sticks, better not upset her.

Fuck, I'm trying not to upset someone who's suffering at least ten forms of PTSD; who am I kidding?

Oh shit, why in hell did I say that out loud?

The corner of her lips shake a bit and she's making some weird sounds…

Wait… v

"You're laughing?" I ask, bemused.

"N…No!" She chokes, keeping her lips pressed tightly together. "Its… I'm tired okay…" Then, she just give up and burst into laughter.

Fuck, I preferred when she was pissed, less scary that way.

Now that I think of it; Moira, Calico, Jackal… Why do I always hit on crazy girls?

Or why do these girls always hit me? 'cept Moira… She had me jump from a ledge and get irradiated… What wouldn't I do for a pretty face.

Oh well, time to scram.

One of the many things Garrows taught us is how to dislocate the bones of our thumbs to escape any kind of restraints.

Never tried it before though. Why? It's _PAINFUL._

I grip both thumbs with the rest of my fingers and push; hard.

It hurts, but not nearly as much as it should. I try to slip my wrists out, but it doesn't pass.

Fuuuck.

Val... I mean Jack, only laughs harder at that; hands on her knees to keep herself steady.

I throw my legs up and hit her square in the face, knocking the spy out cold.

"Aww… Ain't you cute when you're sleeping…" I muse before sighing and: "HELP! ZEUS! Vito! Anyone, Help!"

Kodiak appears right in front of me.

"Hmm… Your deception skills are fascinating, Mister Cole, shame that you must die…"

"What was the point of all this?"

"Amusement, I like to add some… Irony, to one's death. I thought it would be very fitting that you be killed by the one you were trying to free.; I suppose I will have to kill you myself."

I nod toward Jackal, as he aims a pistol to my head.

"Her too, I suppose."

"Obviously. Any last words?"

"Burn in hell, asshole."

"I'll see you there, then."

"Not if I see you first."

He chuckles and…

Scream?

The guy falls to his knees, yelling in pain.

I look down and see Jack's stabbed an electrified stick in the guy's right foot. You don't want to know where she stuck the other.

I think I'm in love.

The girl gets up as the guy twists and scream on the floor.

"No one betrays me you fascist fuck!" She yells, kicking him in the ribs.

Oh-kay…

"Uhm… Jack… Untie me, now; please?" I ask, after she kicked him for the third time.

She glares at me for a few seconds then nod.

Shit, I though she was going to kill me there…

_ZEUS grabbed a commando by its throat and crushed it like paper, still firing his 50 CAL machine gun with the other hand._

"_You can hide, but you can't fight!" He growled as every hostile in the area went invisible again._

"_This has to be the weirdest firefight ever!" McKiney whined, getting up again._

_5.56 was not really a threat to Advanced Power Armors, but a lucky shot's always possible so Alpha squad usually sought cover when fighting, by principle._

"_Do you even know where you're going?" Darling hissed at ZEUS._

"_Negative."_

"_Fucking A."_

Roof.

_Calico lifted her fist and the sixteen Mercs, and one cyber dog, behind her stopped._

_They were in front of the roofs access, a large metal door with three locks,_

"_Listen up, wannabes," She called, trying to get some of that grunt badass attitude that made Cole so popular, " the Captain's in there somewhere and Alpha reported cloaked enemies all over, so be on the lookout, but not trigger happy; Stay frosty and stick together, Ou-Rah?"_

"_Ou-rah!"_

"_Alright then! Stack up, go, go, GO!"_

_The soldiers got in position around the door, with two Heavies taking point._

_One of the Heavies fired his shotgun at the door's hinges while the other used a Super-Sledge to break the locks._

_One kick and the large armored door was on the ground._

"_Breaching! Breaching!" Yelled one of the riflemen before discharging the Sawed-off shotgun -attached under his R91- in a Chinese commando's face. The man had been standing at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the door stupidly._

_Another Talon fired a short burst, but didn't hit anything._

_The soldiers quickly cleared the stairs and the room bellow, leaving two of their companions behind to cover their back._

_From there, Calico sent Staff Sergeant Leland and his__3rd Heavy Assault Squad to secure the second floor._

_She would take the third floor with the 1st Tactical and Fortification._

"_Come on, lads! We're rescuing the big man right now, so look sharp!" Leland barked before waving his troops in the right way._

_Calico's group progressed well enough for the first two rooms, but quickly ran into some trouble._

_Not only were they pinned down, but they couldn't even see who was shooting at them._

"_Talons!" Calico yelled from where she was hiding, behind an heavy, "One burst, 45 degrees, twelve o'clock, on my mark. Mark!"_

_Every soldier fired in the ceiling, raining dust and plaster on the cloaked Chinese and completely messing up their stealth fields._

_Five black figures appeared…_

"_Fire at will!"_

…_And were gunned down._

_Two Talons were too slow to get to cover and had gotten pretty badly hit; none of them would die, their Combat Armors had done the trick, but that meant she would have to keep moving with her squad four men short._

"_Lloyd, Francisco, bring them to the extraction and prepare them for dust off." She ordered._

"_Roger."_

"_Roger."_

_The Lieutenant sighed and kept moving._

_Jared needed help._

_Sometimes, she wondered if that kid wasn't more trouble than he was worth…_

_Then, she remembered where she would be without him and any doubt vanished._

'_That's called loyalty.' She thought with a hint of sarcasm:_

_She had heard of Cole before the Capitol building… Never in good terms._

"_Come on, people, we've gotta hustle!" She barked before sweeping another room._


	26. Feels Like High School

I try to open the door, but there is no doorknob on our side.

"Come on, people, we've gotta hustle!"

…Is that Calico?

"Who's this?" Va… Christ! Jackal asks. Damn name just doesn't fit her.

"It's Calico, my lieutenant… " I answer, before yelling, "Eli! Over here!"

"Captain? Is that you?"

"No, it's the tooth fairy!"

"Oh… We're looking for Cole, you ain't seen him around?"

"Okay, smartass, open the damned door." I growl.

"Can do. Step back!"

We get in the far corner of the room, trying to be as small as possible... Jack punches me in the guts when my hand accidently touches her butt.

Girl's got some issues with the opposite gender… Then again, with what she got trough in the Legion, it was to be expected.

She gets an outraged gasps when I punch her back.

I believe in equality, you punch me, I beat the shit out of you, male or not, if you are too weak to defend yourself then do as any weaker being would and don't fuck with me… Or ask someone bigger to give me a beating. It sucks, it's life, life sucks.

Not to say Jackal's weak, she's a scrappy bitch and that's why I only punched her once; I don't want to have the fuck beaten out of me…

*Bang.*

The door shakes a bit before falling off its hinges.

I had expected something more… Epic…

I get what I asked for when two riflemen walk in, standing perfectly straight, their heavily modded weapons sweeping the room carefully.

Once they are sure its all clear, they stand on either side of the door, straight and vigilant as if they were parading.

Then, Calico walks in, her Combat shotgun in hand and cigarette in the corner of her mouth.

She snaps me a by the book salute.

"Captain Cole, Talon Company is awaiting orders, Sir!"

Jackal is grinning like a child in a toy shop and with a thousand bucks in hand.

She just realized she picked the winning side for once.

I salute the lieutenant back and distribute orders.

"Full deployment authorized; sweep the area, seek and destroy, Kilo Echo Foxtrot protocol." She nods and give Jack a weird look before turning back to her men.

Two moves of her hand and they are executing my orders. Then she turns back to look at Jack.

"Who's this?"

Jack's smile fades… Is it just me or it's getting colder in here?

"She's… Friendly… When she feels like it…" I try, awkwardly.

Cal gives Jack a good look and, deciding she's not so bad after all, gives her a warm smile.

"Well, welcome aboard, I'm First Lieutenant Ilyena Calico, at your service."

Something in her tone seems… strange, as if… Nah, I'm hearing things.

"Well, let's move out, shall we?" I offer the girls, who were having a staring and smiling contest.

Creeeepy.

The two riflemen near the door exchange a short but meaningful glance.

Catfight!

Wonder who'd win… Val is fast and agile but Cal is hard as nail and much stronger than she looks…

Ah well…

I grab Cal's .44 Magnum from it's holster, ignoring her complaint, and shoot Kodiak in the head twice before handing her gun back to the lieutenant.

"Thanks." I turn to one of the Rifleman, "Got any weapon you can spare, bro?"

He nods and tosses me a 10mm N99 pistol with four spare clips.

Better than nothing...Wow!

The ground shakes so hard I almost loose my balance.

"What the hell happened?" I yell in my comm. link.

"Nothing, sir, talk to you later." McKiney answers.

What the…?

* * *

"_What the fuck are those things?" Darling yelled from behind ZEUS._

_They were in some sort of motor pool and were facing two huge bipedal insect like machines._

"_Chinese Light Walkers, sir!" Dexter answered, from where she was hiding._

_The things didn't just look mean, they had the Gauss Miniguns to go with the attitude and were now showering Alpha with them._

_The walkers were simply too agile for ZEUS to take down with his machine gun; damn, they even had chemical jumpjets that helped them jump and hop around like metal locusts._

_On the other hand, their machine guns couldn't do shit against his armor._

_Alpha, from where they were hiding behind Chimera tanks, were trying their best to score hits but failing miserably as the walkers four miniguns seemed to know exactly where they were hiding at all time and to have an unlimited ammo supply._

"_FUCK THIS!" _

_ZEUS' Machine Gun clattered on the floor as he tossed it aside before rushing forward._

_The first walker tried to ram him like a bull and ended up being punched into submission, its pilot forced out of the cockpit like canned meat._

_The other one was a lot more careful, staying away and spraying the metal giant with concentrated fire._

_That is, until Alpha squad tossed a volley of plasma grenades its way._

_The thing's four machine guns pointed down, as if they were looking at the grenades, then went limp a bit in an 'Oh shit' attitude._

_The grenades' blasts were pretty minor; the thing's reactor, however, went off with a violent shockwave._

_Not an explosion, just a brutal shockwave and a geyser of broken mechanical parts._

_Alpha got up, weapons at the ready, and moved forward, expecting another light walker to jump at them any time._

"_What the hell happened?" The Captain's voice made them all jump._

"_Well," Darling mused, "I suppose he's alright after all."_

"_Nothing, sir," Mac answered, his gun at the ready, "talk to you later."_

_The Captain didn't object._

_This was one thing Alpha liked with their new boss; he knew they were professionals and could handle any situation, fuck, all of his men were professionals, but none were as well trained as Alpha, that's for sure, so Cole respected and trusted them, which resulted in them never wanting to disappoint him._

_They'd die before they left the man down._

_Once they were certain there was no more threat in the area, Alpha decided to take a short break while ZEUS looked around, trying to find his MG back._

"_Hey, Dex," Mac called, from where he was sitting, Laser rifle on his lap._

_Damn Micro-Fusion cell got stuck again._

"_Hmm?" _

"_You saw Diana lately?" _

_Dex gave him a strange look._

_She didn't have to take off her helmet, he just knew she was._

"_Why?"_

"_I dunno, she's been spending a lot of time with that LT, don't you think?"_

"_So what, they're friends."_

"_Yeah, exactly, Boss and Cole are friends, they fought together and got each others trough some tough shit, how the hell did these two get to be friends?"_

"_The Sarge and LT?" Dex asked, not certain she'd caught the whole babble._

"_Yeah."_

_Dexter was about to tell him to shut the fuck up when it struck her._

"_Wait… You're not implying…" _

"_Yeah, we both know our lill' sarge's a very… outgoing and open person…"_

_Darling massaged his neck in annoyance before throwing an empty MF cell at Mac's face. It bounced off his helmet with a ping._

"_Shut up, Private, this is private business… I mean… Shit."_

_He could hear Mac's chuckle from his side of the hangar, twelve meters away._

"_Talking about that," Rock mused while re-filling his Heavy Incinerator's tanks, "You think there's something between Cole and Calico?"_

_He got five pairs –ZEUS counting for two- of surprised photo sensors staring at him_.

_Then Mac started laughing._

"_Man, forget that, she's way out of his league…"_

"_I heard that, jackass." Cole's voice snapped on the radio._

_Mac tried to apologize, awkwardly, but Cole shut him up and asked Alpha squad to check the area for explosives; the Crimson Dragoons had just blown up their own armory, they were likely to do the same with the motor pool._

_Just how the Captain knew where they were was completely beyond them._


	27. Back on track

**A/N I'M BACK! **

As I stand on the roof with the whole rescue force, Mutt, Jackal and a few crates filled with Chinese stealth suits, I wonder just what I'll do with the girl.

Priestess, assassin, spy… She could be very useful, but she's also very unstable and there is really no telling if it wasn't all planned by her bosses.

We took that base way too easily.

Speaking of her, she suddenly decides to stand from where she's sitting next to Cal and walk up to me.

Mutt growls at her and I pet his head.

"I know, boy, I know."

"Know what?" Val asks with a slight smile.

"You're scary."

She scoffs and sit on the same crate as I. I look straight in her eyes and she looks back into mine.

"You can't come." I state, flatly.

"I know, you can't trust me. I had hoped you would, however."

She grab my had and I squeeze hers. "I'd like to, but I must think about my men and bringing you along would be a dumb and selfish move. If you need anything…"

She smile, genuinely. "I can scavenge all I need from the base, Cole, don't worry about that." And that's all I get out of her as she releases my hand and walk away into the depth of the building.

The wind rises and I feel a strange feeling in my chest.

Gonna miss that bitch.

Darling is the last person I'd expect to give a shit, but he still walks up to me and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Shit's hard, son." He admits, "But that's the way it's gotta be, just make sure you don't dwell on the past so much you forget the future."

Wise… Unnecessary, seeing as my attachment for this girl is merely a by-product of my attempt at getting infos out of her, but it's still nice of him to say, so I just nod.

Man, I need a smoke…

Calico walks by, heading for ZEUS, and I nick the cig she just lit, earning an "Asshole."

I simply smile while taking a long drag. "It's _Captain_ Asshole, lieutenant."

* * *

**A Month Later.**

_Calico looked at the large shivering balloons with marvel. She'd grown in the wastes, her mother a raider whore and her father… Well, let's just say she had a long list of possible candidates. She hadn't known how to write, count or read before she turned ten, then, she got sold as a slave to a man named Seagrave Holmes._

_Seagrave didn't need a sex slave or anything like it, the man had simply lost his whole family and needed company, so he decided to "adopt", in a sense._

_There, Ileana learned tons of things, more than she thought possible, starting with basic grammar and ending with advanced mechanic principles._

_In the past sixteen years, these principles had never been used for anything except fixing trucks, guns and howitzers, but now that she had access to these airships, she finally felt like she could put her talents to use._

_To Cole, these ships were barely tools, he had no technical formation nor poetic spirit, so he really didn't see them for what they were; veritable floating fortress, castles in the sky._

_Despite all these months, Eli still stared in awe at the incredible view and climbed in the crow nests any chances she had._

_Like she was doing right now before she got distracted by the helium balloons._

_There was far too few of them to hold the ship in the air, but there were also lots of large hot air bags. This hybrid construction allowed the ships to change altitude without dropping precious gas, therefore drastically increasing their autonomy compared to old airship models while retaining the size and power that made them so useful._

_Shrugging it off, Calico climbed the ladder to the crow nest and watched the wasteland bellow._

_It was marvelous; valleys broken apart by rock formations, burnt trees and occasional ruins were all she could see; that and the dark clouded horizon._

_The ships had radar systems that allowed them to avoid storms, ensuring a smooth ride, but forcing science groups and verti-assault squads to set up rain collectors at every cloud they met, then haul the water back to the ships._

_Speaking of haul, Sydney had told her about a problem that had recently risen with the armory. Not the kind of things bad enough to notify the Captain, but still an annoying fact; 10mm pistols were excellent, reliable weapons, but the recent influx of volunteers the many assault groups had brought back was quickly draining their stock while leaving so much other pistol types, the four quartermasters didn't know what to do with them. _

_Her first idea was to use laser pistols as main sidearm, but very few recruits knew how to use them. Plasma and magnums being out of the question, that left her with either .32 pistols, Chinese models or these 9mm handguns salvage teams had started bringing back in bulk._

_Only problem with that last option was that there was no guarantee the stream of looted 9mm ammo would continue and, if it stopped, she would be going trough ten hells to change the sidearm for model with more readily available ammo…_

_That reminded her of an amusing fact she had noticed on the recent inventory: They had a few .44 magnums, but no one wanted them, which caused an over abundance of .44 rounds, so much in fact the only ammo type they had more of was .32._

"_Lydia, I'd like to talk to Sydney," She called over the intercom system._

_Lydia had served as the company's dispatcher ever since Jared had shot the last one in the head. She worked like ten and had the memory of a machine._

"_Right away ,First Lieutenant, please stand by." She also knew every single squad leader's voice by heart, to the point it had become useless to identify yourself before talking._

_The Chief Quartermaster was on the line ten seconds later._

"_Need something, ma'am?"_

"_You know when you modified ten mike mikes SMGs to shoot point forty rounds?"_

"_Yup."_

"_Think you could do it with the nines?"_

_The former relic hunter's grin was audible trough the statics. "I sure can try."_

* * *

The meeting room is silent, for once. The Outcast actually sent a representative for this one meeting which seems to indicate they now give a shit about what's going on.

We brough them two Chimera tanks and a Chinese light walker after the last operation so they must figure it's time they pay us back in kind. I also gave them access to one of our captured Stealth Suit, but since our deal didn't cover armors, I'm still debating whether they'll get their share or not.

But that's not why I called today's reunion.

Walkers gets the projector working and a map of the U.S., showing our position north of Las Vegas as well as another dot, twenty klicks east.

"Crimson Dragoons' stolen Intel shows they had been observing an old U.S. Marine Corps depot at this location, but gave up trying to enter it due to the security bots… Or because it was raining. Our translation software wasn't clear on that point…"

They laugh at that and Lyons speaks up.

"What's inside?"

"Marine Corps gear from the Gobi campaign, according to Chinese report. Surplus, prototypes, stuff like that. Frogs too." I expect a reaction to that translation failure but only get a stare.

Whatever.

Protector McGrath, our liaison with the Outcasts, looks up from his own copy of the report.

"The Chinese thought there would be Wattz 2000s and very advanced combat armors in there. We call dibs on at least thirty percent of what you'll find…"

He has guts asking us that, but the Outcasts are honest peoples, so I know he'll bring something to the table.

"In exchange, we'll sent two defenders and a full mechanized squad to support your task force."

Sounds fair. "Alright, I'll lead the force myself," I turn to Calico, "get one of the old tanks prepped and Vertibird one ready to drop team Charlie," I face Reilly, "I also want Ranger group two in an APC and Second Sniper unit in position before we get there…" Finally, I look at Lyons, "the Pride will spearhead the attack."

Everyone gets in motion, but I interrupt them with one last news.

"Oh! While I'm at it, we checked the numbers and there's now seven-hundred and fifty-nine of us, which means Talon Company is now actualy Talon Battalion, we decided it sounded crappy and are now open to new name ideas. See Corporal Lance for further details. Dismissed!"


	28. TALON Corps

Tactical Air and Land Operation Network Corporation (T.A.L.O.N. Corps., Aka Talon Company or Ghost Warriors)

Arguably the most powerful private army in the wasteland, T.A.L.O.N. Corporation went from local power to nuisance in 2267 and was brought on the brink of extinction before being revived in 2279 and raised all the way to the rank of myth.

Tales of silent dark warriors sweeping down from the sky and leaving a surgical trail of destruction are legion in the Northeast and Midwest, and so are the explanations of their origin, ranging from a simple group of wasters who stumbled upon a cache of high-grade weapons to them being remnants of the U.S. Army.

The truth is somewhere in-between, since the company is actually a reiteration from the forces stationed at Fort Bannister, yet has very little direct descendents from the original soldiers.

In the Capital Wasteland, they were barely more than organized raiders, desperately clinging to life. However, what should have been a decapitating blow from the Brotherhood quickly turned into a snowball effect that led to the effective death of Talon Company and subsequent birth of T.A.L.O.N. Corps, a foe so formidable the Midwest Brotherhood is still crippled by their encounter and has enforced an interdiction of even mentioning the group they now name "Ghost Warriors"

This extraordinary rise in power is no miracle, however, and a direct consequence of the brotherhood's campaign of extermination, which caused factions formerly hostile to the company to join force with them.

Their organization is somewhat close to that of the U.S. Army, with Reilly's Rangers acting as Special Warfare groups, inspired by the SEALs, Enclave renegades being the equivalent to air force and Delta force, the Brotherhood Outcasts acting as Navy and engineering corps, the Talon Mercenaries themselves being very close to Marines and, finally, the Foreign Legion acts as standard army units.

TIGRA's role in the organization is still classified, but it is known that it was formed by Cole himself and is comprised of the most effective Hit Men in Talon Company, making it somewhat of an unofficial CIA.

However, It must be noted that Reilly's Rangers operate on a totally independent chain of command and the Outcasts are merely allies to the Company, meaning it has its own inner conflicts and power play.

This uneasy alliance is held together by a strange feeling of loyalty to the man named Jared Cole, defacto leader of T.A.L.O.N. Corps. And should he happen to disappear, most experts agree that the whole army would crumble.

Compared to other factions:

**Talon Company:**

Technological level: Advanced

Recruit influx: Low

Actual members: Average (Over 700)

Training: Very good.

Medical Knowledge: Good

Budget: Very High (Has its own self-reliant, Marxism-based economy)

Supplies influx: Excellent

Mobility: Excellent. (Few Vertibirds. Trucks. Jeeps. Airships.)

**Brotherhood of Steel (East):**

Technological level: Extremely Advanced.

Recruit influx: High.

Actual members: Very High (Over 10,000).

Training: Good.

Medical Knowledge: Excellent.

Budget: Average (Reliant on outside sources).

Supplies Influx: Excellent.

Mobility: Very Good. (Vertibirds)

**Enclave**

Technological level: Extremely Advanced.

Recruit influx: None.

Actual members: Low. (Under 200)

Training: Extremely good.

Medical Knowledge: Unrivalled.

Budget: Very High (Has its own inner economy)

Supplies Influx: Excellent.

Mobility: Very good. (Vertibirds.)

**Brotherhood of Steel (West)**

Technological level: Advanced.

Recruit influx: Low to None.

Actual members: Over average (More or less 1000 members)

Training: Very good.

Medical Knowledge: Excellent.

Budget: Low.

Supplies Influx: Low.

Mobility: Average.(Few Vertibirds, Trucks.)

**Caesar's Legion**

Technological level: Very Low.

Recruit influx: Very High.

Actual members: Very High (Over 10,000)

Training: Average. (Unrivalled on close combat)

Medical Knowledge: Very Low.

Budget: High.

Supplies Influc: Very High.

Mobility: Very Low.

**New California Republic**

Technological level: Average.

Recruit influx: High

Actual members: Very High (Over 10,000)

Training: Under average.

Medical Knowledge: Good.

Budget: Very High.

Supplies influx: Unreliable.

Mobility: Low.(Very few vertibirds, Trucks.)

P.S. Dear President Kimball, I am sure you are intrigued as to how this file made its way to your office and why you are receiving it. Well, let's just say my employers are weary of Captain Cole's band and we believe you will quickly come to see them as a nuisance, thus, it is in our mutual interest that you be prepared to their arrival in NCR territory, so your army can solve what my employers simply cannot.

I will continue to send you useful information as their organization changes.

Do not try to contact me or my employers.


	29. Welcome to the Jungle

**A/N: **

**God And The Snake: So did I. Damned writer's block :S **

**ELMO-fAN cLUB MeMbER: In post-apocalypse, they are, although most law enforcement forces frown upon that kind of philosophy…**

This will be most of the task force's first mission, our first use of our armored force and the first time we'll use all three Vertibirds in a single operation, all that under my command and responsibility.

Let's just say I'm sweating rivers up here in the Sherman's turret.

I undo the straps of my chest plate and tie it up on the side of the tank, welcoming the wind as it slaps in my face.

We're eighteen meters above ground, treads sitting on a large steel plate hooked with four chains, themselves fastened to the cruiser's crane.

The motor pool calls that an elevator. I call it suicide machine with extra rust.

At least the view lets me check out the terrain before the op.

And this slow ass elevator gives me ample time to take notes; We're two kilometers away from the bunker, yet I can still see it from here, so I just peek trough my binoculars and verify the scout team's report.

5x Sentry bots? I see two near the vault-like entrance and three in a delta formation a dozen meters further.

6x Gutsy? I count four on the left and five on the right… Nice counting, scout boys.

18x Protectrons? Fuck that, I'll take their word on it.

8x Brainbots? Can't spot a single one, not good.

Vertibird One passes right next to us, shaking our platform and earning very colorful curses from the driver and gunner.

"Having fun, Diana?" Lieutenant Commander Lorn laughs over the radio.

Lorn, as it turns out, was one of the most experienced pilot of the Enclave and is, in fact, First Airborne's highest ranked member, although he usually defers to Darling when it comes to field decisions.

I learned that today. Can't know everything, now, can I?

The Sarge laughs over the comm. and does a barrel roll with her bird. She's in a good mood today. Sergeant Fox and his men, Vertiassault team Charlie, probably aren't, however.

Our platform finally touches down and we roll up next to the APC, taking the lead of our small convoy.

My gunner, a former Legionary, shakes his shoulders and loads a round in the .50 CAL machine gun.

The guy is built like a truck and barely ever talks. Leland says his squad found him crucified near a Legion camp and offered him a shot at revenge. They only received a nod…

And he cleared that whole camp pretty much single handedly…

After that, it became SOP to 'recruit' anyone we spot tacked to a 2x4. We actually created a unit just for them, jokingly called 'the Foreign Legion', which, from now on, we'll use as a temporary assignment for any new recruit; they get leather armor, Chinese pistols, sawed off shotguns, old repeater rifles kitchen knives and hunting rifles and must survive two missions to the frontline as cannon fodders before we give them real training and equipment. Keep us from wasting time and gear on spies, softies and thieves.

I Put my armor plate back on and pick up a Type 98H machine gun from the side of the turret, securing it with a pre-installed bipod. I need to kneel in my turret if I want to aim down the sights and can only hit stuff in front of the tank, but that also means the gunner doesn't have to be afraid he'll hit my head while swiveling around.

Now I just have to wait…

Most notable recruits of the Foreign Legion are members of a 'tribe' called the Scorched People, all Ghouls, all former police officers. As such, they were allowed to keep their uniforms, flak jackets and weapons, as well as their ranks, which mean I have twelve new Sergeants, two Lieutenants and one Captain, a woman named Serena Vasquez and a pure genius of urban warfare. She led the Scorched People through the remains of their town for two hundred years and kept the other habitants safe until the Legion decided to wipe them out, two weeks ago. Didn't go so well.

As soon as they're done with the Foreign Legion, I plan on making them the battalion's military police and peace keeping force.

Since most of the boys under my command only have experience in offensive operations, our actual defense capabilities are still somewhat lacking.

The tank ascends one last mound of dirt and we are officially on the battlefield.

The Legionnaire is the first to open fire, but I am quick to follow and so is the main gunner.

Two seconds into the fight and five protectrons as well as two Gutsy are out of action.

To the left, Lyon's Pride deactivate their stealth boys and step into the fray, Kodiak and Glade packing so much firepower they could have taken this bunker by themselves, while behind us, Ranger Group two is deploying around the APC.

They finished their training just last week, so that'll be their first combat encounter, same as First Airborne's Charlie squad.

"All units, focus fire on the Sentry bots!" I order over the radio, "Clear the way for the Vertibirds!"

The tank's turret swivels to follow a sentry's path, while the frontal machine gun pelts the thing's armor.

Next to me, the .50 CAL is firing with a sound close to that of someone chucking wood. The air displacement from the shots is causing pressure in my ears, like I get when the Eagles suddenly climb a few hundred meters.

Behind the tanks and to the right, the Rangers are opening up with their Type 98K Chinese assault rifles while all around us, cloaked figures fire their .308 rifles.

I read somewhere that war isn't hell, war is _loud as hell_. Guess I just realized how true that is.

It doesn't help that our three Vertibirds then swing in low and hover into place while their cargo fast ropes down.

There's two regular merc squads, one Verti-assault team and one Foreign Legion platoon, twenty two soldiers in total, dropping right in front of the depot's door and quickly fanning out from there.

Well, the mercs and Assault teams do. The Legionnaires just scramble around, firing at pretty much anything that looks mechanical…

Their armor is damn near useless against the machines' heavy firepower, so half of them get slaughtered within the first deployment stage. The rest quickly learn to use cover.

A ranger yells something about being hit and Lyons reports hostiles on our six. The brainbots.

The tank's turret swirls around to face the newcomers , which gives me a clear shot on the cluster of advanced machines.

I pepper them with 5.56 rounds for about four seconds before having my fun cut short by the tank's main gun.

"Confirmed hit!" I holler, "Targets disabled; advance!"

Ahead and a little to the left, I spot two legionnaires with their face in the dirt and surrounded by at least three protectrons and a gutsy. They are both wounded and the robots keep scoring grazing hits, slowly tearing both kids apart.

They're not TCs yet, but they're still fighting for us, so they are entitled to the same loyalty, I think.

Plus, they're still holding their own despite bad burns and inferior number. I like that.

The 98K comes loose with a jerk and, a second later, my boots kick up a cloud of sand quickly lost in the one the tank is spitting.

Twenty meters ahead, the kids are getting ready for the finishing blow as the robots are finally on top of them. They must know each others somehow, because they are holding hands.

So fucking cute…

I can run twenty meters in five seconds, seven with my gear, and can kill one thing per second.

The Chinese weapon spits its first volley in the nearest protectron's 'head', ending its ramble about the use of lethal force.

Next, I bring down on of the gutsy, earning the group of robots' undivided attention.

A laser bolt hisses next to my shoulder, further burning my old armor. The responding burst doesn't sizzle or fizzle or anything. It does what ballistic weapons have been doing for four hundred years; it screams, hammers and then it kills.

A plasma shot splashes on my chest, boiling the metal, but the armor was hardened by Donovan and that guy knows his shit, so the angry red spot on my chest quickly takes a silver shade and I give the gutsy an early retirement with a 5.56 parting bonus .

A protectron's beam grazes my balaclava just over the right cheek, causing a slight burn, quickly followed by the smell of burnt meat.

After that, I'm close enough to finish the job the way I like it; with my bare fucking hands.

Two protectrons standing on both sides of the legionnaires smoking bodies, close enough to step on them. I spin my weapon in the air and catch it by the cannon.

First 'bot has its dome clubbed twice, smashing pretty much every sensorial devices of the machine.

While it fumbles around, I 'golf club' the legs of my second enemy, fucking up its balance, and after it hits the ground, I smash it until its chest casing cracks open, allowing me to rip out the fission battery.

Then, I just get back up, dust my armor and execute the blinded protectron with a .44 round to the processor from my brand new colt 1911.

I then kneel next to my fallen troops and check them both for pulse.

_Frederick Ross was not much of a tech head and much less of a mechanist, but as he sat in the flying machine's troop bay with Master Sergeant Phips yelling the inner workings of the M7 bolt action Marksman Rifle, and the M11 lever action rifle, he made very sure he understood everything._

"_The M7 has a clip while the M11 must have each bullets put into the tube separately. The tube is at the tip of the rifle and can accommodate ten rounds. You must pull the bolt on the M7 and crank the lever of the M11 after every shot. The M7 is a marksman rifle, so use it for long range kills, the M11 can attain a much greater rate of fire; use it for suppression._

_Freddy had not enlisted because he was a brutal guy, but only because Talon Company offered him an opportunity to get the hell away from the town he grew up in and his dumbass family._

_His childhood friend, Natalie Burton, was also in that Vertibird, clutching her lever action rifle like it was a teddy bear._

"_Alright, kiddos!" The sarge suddenly yelled as the lighting in the troop bay went from red to green, "Stow your shit and get ready, we're fast roping this one! For you new recruits, the concept is simple; the harder you squeeze, the slower the descent! Now move it!" And with that, he punched the door open._

_First out was a talon merc with a shotgun attached to his R91. Once he was out of sight, the Phips shoved another merc trough the door, this one carrying an R91 DMR variant._

_Freddy was not exactly eager for his turn to come, so he left pretty much everyone pass before him and soon ended next to a pale looking mercenary wearing a baseball cap, sunglasses and with a tiger tattoo on his forearm._

"_Nervous?" The man asked, his voice harsh and dry._

"_A bit…"_

"_Don't worry, we have your back; just don't fuck up."_

_He really didn't know what to answer to that._

_Natalie gave him a scared look as her turn at the rope came and he just smiled reassuringly. _

"_Hey, kid." The pale man called from behind him, "Don't let her distract you down there or you'll both get killed."_

_With that, Freddy was shoved down the rope and straight into battle._

_It was really like landing in hell. The heat down there was much worst than inside the bird and the whole place reeked of gunpowder and burnt meat._

_He spotter a robot ahead and racked the bolt of his rifle before firing it._

_The kick hurt his chest and the shot missed entirely, but the machine still exploded._

_Freddy didn't know what a tank was and most certainly had never seen one, but fucking hell was he glad the gun and armor platform was on his side._

_Someone forced him to the ground just as something exploded nearby and he ended up in a crater, on his back next to a TC Corporal._

"_Heya!" The merc yelled, extending his gloved hand. "I'm Tim!"_

"_Freddy!" Ross answered over the surrounding chaos._

"_Pleasure to meet you!" They shook hands and Tim reloaded his Shotgun before talking again, "Listen, Freddy," His voice was tearing trough the fog on Ross' mind like a blade trough fabric. "I got a twenty five mike mike here and need someone to use it here while I toss frags way out there, carpet the area and all that. Think you're up for it?"_

_Freddy just nodded and Tim tossed him the shotgun._

_That was a 25 mike mike? How was he supposed to use it? Before he could ask, however, Tim got up and sprinted across the battlefield, almost instantly replaced by a girl._

_Natalie._

"_Where the heck were you?" She yelled, her eyes wide and scared "Where did you get that?" She quickly added, talking about the shotgun or whatever it was._

_He just shook his head and took aim at a nearby flying robot._

_The weapon emitted an hollow 'Thump' and rocked upward. A split second later, the machine was engulfed in flames and shrapnel._

_The scorched machine swiftly turned to him and fired a plasma bolt square on his left hand, turning it into a smoking stump._

_He fired again with his remaining hand, but couldn't see the result as a laser beam then pierced his chest just under his sternum, quickly followed by another one in his right shoulder._

_He slumped to the ground, feeling cold and numb while his friend screamed his name._

_Natalie had enough time to empty her rifle before she was hit too, in the leg. _

_She crawled next to him and drew her ridiculous Chinese gun._

_He did the same, earning a searing pain in his shoulder._

"_I'm sorry, Freddy." Natalie breathed, "I should never have brought you into this._

_He tried to tell her he would have joined anyway, but his lungs were filling up with blood so he just took her hand…_

_She screamed. A beam had drilled right trough her shoulder, just over her heart._

_Freddy somehow managed to empty his clip in the protectron's face before his arm fell back to the ground, now totally devoid of life. He knew the rest of his body would follow soon and only hoped his friend would survive._

_Fuck TC! They said they were always there for their troops, that working for them was nothing like regular armies. All bullshit! He was fucking dying and no one was doing shit about it!_

_Next to him, Natalie Fired her pistol as well and looked at him._

"_Don't go before me…" She cried and he just smiled, exactly like back in the bird._

"_Don't worry, I couldn't stand to spend one minute without you…" It didn't come out, however, so he just hugged her and looked into her beautiful eyes._

_They were a gold-brown with green stripes near the center, like blades of grass in a barley field. He had never really noticed how pretty they were and wished he could tell her. Damn, he just wished he could look at them just a few minutes longer._

_He barely gasped as another beam grazed his waist_

_They could hear the robots coming closer now. It would be over soon…_

"_Use of lethal force… "*Bang!* A shower of sparks rained on the two recruits, so they looked up._

_A dark figure was advancing trough the battlefield, mowing down robots like they were just radroaches. _

_One of the machine did land a hit, but the figure didn't even flinch and continued the massacre until it was right next to them. Then, it smashed both protectrons with its rifle and finished the job with a pistol. _

_The man wore a balaclava and tactical goggles, but as he prodded his neck, Freddy could feel that guy was his complete opposite; a brutal, yet brilliant man, a professional…_

_Freddy decided that if he made it alive, he'd be just like this guy._

_The voice was nothing like he expected. "Hang in there, guys, I ordered your evac on the first bird out of here, we'll patch you up in no time, just don't give up!"_

_Ross went back to Natalie's eyes. The cold was everywhere now and he was shaking._

_She was in no better shape, sweating profusely and pale as a drape. _

_He stroked her face, holding on with all his will to be sure he'd die after her._

_No way he'd leave his only friend behind._

"_You remember… When we went to the pond with our fishing rods?"_

_He nodded and the man next to them sighed before looking trough his pack for something._

"_I wish we could go back."_

_He eyes suddenly went empty and Freddy Ross finally stopped living, grateful that he was granted one more minute with the love of his life._

Alright, this is getting old, let's end this bullshit.

The first thing that stands in my way is a sentry bot.

The stream of 5.56 from my rifle first severs its minigun, then its rocket launcher before hammering its way trough its chest.

Next victim is a protectron that had the misfortune of being in my fucking way.

I think it was one of ours.

My gun click empty and I snatch an old repeater from the ground, downing two more gutsy before having to use my pistol against the last sentry bot.

It clicks empty before I even scrape the thing's painting, so I draw my trench knife and start punching the robot's face.

First hit dents the the armor plate, second one shatters the Plexiglas, third cave the plate in and the fourth creates an opening large enough to stick my knife trough.

The last robot is disabled seventy seconds after the battle started.

I tap my headset. "Area sanitized, send in the techies."


	30. Melting Mercury

**A/N: Figured I'd make a few more side stories within this story. :)**

**ELMO: Me neither. Just came like that, i tried to make them live, but my brain refused to let them xD**

**God and the Snake: Good to be writting fallout again ^^ **

**You mean tanks?  
**

**Ziko City Outskirts.**

**634km north of Vegas.**

**2109 hours**

Sitting at the wheel of his HMMWV, Mercury had a hard time keeping up with Lydia's briefing while navigating his "Light" assault vehicle around the broken landscape.

"So, there is no actual target?" He asked, unsure.

"Exactly, only close protection, driver duties and martial art tutoring."

"Babysitting…" He spat, finally catching up, "Who's the baby?"

"We don't know. The contract was taken on by one of our temporary trade and recruitment outpost. The guys manning it could give you more intel…" Merc had to hit the gas for the car to climb a steep rock and Dispatch's next sentence was lost in the resulting chaos.

The jeep roared over the obstacle before smashing on the other side of it with much whining from the suspension.

"…will stay there only for a few more weeks. Your contract is a two month one."

"What's the pay?" On the dashboard, his NAVMAP warned him he was getting close to his destination, so the mercenary quickly checked his 9mm before tucking it back under his shoulder.

"Good, ten thousand dollar in pre war cash, that's…"

"Fifty thousands caps." Merc breathed, "What's my share?"

"Since it's a solo op, sixty percent. Any support you request from us will lower that percentage, however."

He could now see the town in the distance, trough the dirty windshield. Lots of smoke and flames. Industrial type, much like the Pitt.

"Do I at least get a discount on air strikes?" He was not very glad to be charged for using Talon Company… Corps. resources, yet he understood that Cole had to keep the money flowing so he could afford to give everyone their cozy living arrangements, free food and fat checks.

"Intels, maintenance, ammo and other such services will, of course, be free for as long as our outpost will remain in the area and we will refund you any such expenses afterward, but advanced weaponry, backup and, yes, airstrike, will be billed to you. At a discount. Any questions?"

"Yeah, what are the rules of engagement and what is the threat level from local law enforcement?"

"Engage at will, we have no friend or foes in this area. As for law enforcement, you'll have to ask the boys manning the outpost. I marked it on you NAVMAP. Good luck, Sergeant."

"Thanks, Dispatch" He switched the radio off and looked at his map.

The outpost was inside the city, at the corner of two streets.

Looking back to the actual city, Mercury couldn't help but being impressed; it was huge! Ten times the size of Megaton, at least, and it had buildings the size of Tenpenny tower all over the place.

Even more impressive was the fact these buildings were all postwar.

Surrounding it all was a seven meter tall wall with barbed wires all over it and guard towers everywhere.

Merc drove his car to a checkpoint and was met by two mounted machineguns, a spotlight and twelve armed guards all aiming guns at him.

His 9mm felt really very small at that moment.

The sergeant lowered his window and held his hands up.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, then a man with thick sunglasses and long oily hairs walked up to him, cigarette tucked in the corner of his mouth.

When he spoke, his cig bobbed up and down, but bravely stuck between his lips.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"Staff Sergeant Mercury, Talon Corps."

The man's face seemed chiseled in granite as he stared at the merc for ten long seconds.

"Staff Sergeant Mercury. What are you here for?"

"Work." Merc explained, suddenly cursing himself for not wearing his vest to cover the holster.

On the plus side, it did hide the R80 'Perforator' carbine on his back seat…

"You a contract killer or something?" The man's voice made it clear 'yes' would be a very bad carrer choice right now.

"Bodyguard, actually."

Before the guard could answer –and he looked like he was about to- the large metal gates parted slightly to let an afro-american woman trough, along with a pair of Talon Corps. Heavy Troopers.

The woman charged the guard like a bull, shoving him away from the jeep before basically putting the fear of god into the man.

"Captain Clyde, you were informed our man was coming today and the toll was paid in advance, are you trying to start a diplomatic incident? Because hindering a Talon Mercenary's job in any way will be seen as an act of aggression and such acts of against our corporation are usually met with healthy doses of airstrikes and indiscriminate bombing runs quickly followed by gleeful looting. Trust me, I don't want this to happen any more than you do, so get the fuck out of my boy's way."

The Captain held the woman's glare for a few second, blew smoke in her face and then motioned for his troop to stand down.

Whoever that chick was, Mercury would have married her on the spot.

Instead, he offered her and her men a ride back to the outpost. That way they could brief him on the road, saving everyone some time.

They accepted with as much gratitude as mercs in power armor and a TIGRA Field Agent could muster.

Which wasn't much, actually.

The woman sat on front while one of her bodyguards bolted his minigun on the turret swivel and the other sat next to Merc's vest.

"I'm Second Lieutenant Hatchet. You're Mercury?"

"Negative, I'm Santa Claus." He joked, driving trough the now fully opened gate.

Hatchet's tone was in no way different from when she was speaking with the guard:

"I hate humor, Sergeant, so stuff it." Mercury immediately came to hate her.

"Yes, ma'am. Can you give me more details on my assignment?"

She snapped her fingers and the guy on the back seat handed her a portable terminal.

The thing unfolded with a hiss and took a few seconds to start up. Once it was done, Hatchet started talking.

"Your customer is one of the three factory owners in this place. Very rich. His factory produces car parts for pretty much everyone and is the only one to do it on such a scale, anywhere."

"Good for him." Merc groaned, driving trough an alley to avoid a brahmin cart convoy, "Why does he need a personal taxi-bodyguard?"

"Getting there; he has two kids; Amber, seven and Troy, twelve. They have private tutors all around town and given the number of peoples that hate their dad, walking from each all day is a very bad idea."

"Anyone in particular I should be on the lookout for?"

Hatchet just laughed. "This whole fucking town hates him. However, you might want to do some research on the two other factory owners, see if they're the type who'd do some underhanded business to get their hand on his factory." He made a mental note to go snoop around the factories as soon as he had the time.

"What should I expect from local law enforcement groups?" That was the one hundred caps question.

"Depends how much you pay them. Fuck serve and protect, they're mercs, worst than us, even. Blackwood Corporation, they're called. Not big enough to stand up to us but the whole population obeys them and they have quite a fortress."

Another mercenary group? That was quite an interesting development…

"Why didn't the customer hire them instead of us?"

"They're animals. In this city, one person gets either killed, raped, abducted or mugged by them every five minutes. At least they keep the raiders out. I guess."

He really couldn't care less; corrupted government is still better than anarchy, right?

They soon arrived in front of an old gunstore with a talon painted on the door and a sentry bot patrolling the street. The gunner jumped off and Hatchet tossed Mercury key.

"We prepped a room for you in the motel across the street. I'll have Kurt here show you the way to the customer's house tomorrow morning." The man in the back just nodded shortly.

Merc nodded as well and shut the engine. He had another question, but both Hatchet and Kurt were out before he could make a sound, so he decided to go get some sleep and ask more question tomorrow.


	31. Bitch Slap

The motel room wasn't anywhere as cheap as Mercury had expected, yet way smaller.

Like a lot of the city, the motel had been built postwar using steel, cement and plastic from the factories and as such, was mostly black and white with the green blankets being the only spot of color in the rooms.

Said rooms were just large enough to house a bed, a small drawer and a lamp, but lacked the grime and dust one would find around the wastes.

Merc closed the door behind him and hung his vest on a hook behind the door.

His bow tie was quick to follow.

Most of the company's assassins wore those gray business suits or sometimes the beige ones, always with neck ties, but Mercury liked to look sharp and was sharp, so he opted for a mate black smoking over a nearly-gleaming white shirt. Instead of a simple neck tie, he wore a bow tie made in an expensive fabric he had bought from rangers outfitting a week prior. Black as well...

Truth be told, his style was not his own idea, but instead was burrowed from that of James Bond, a fictional character created by his favorite author, Ian Fleming.

When Merc was only six, he read the whole collection in Arlington library and quickly adopted many secret agent habits with the very simple will of becoming the world's best spy.

It was easy; he'd sell information to raider parties and get a cut of the loot, or warn towns of attacks and get a reward. He soon grew so good at his job he could manipulate the power balance of the wasteland like one would play a music instruments. It took dedication and focus, but it quickly grew easy and Mercury quickly grew bored.

That was why he joined Talon Company.

He tossed the Company's ID card and termination credentials on the drawer, along with his CZ-75 pistol, admiring the objects that summed up his life for a few seconds before hiding the .22 pistol he kept in his sleeve under his pillow.

Merc always liked to wear some sort of armor under his shirt and trousers, in this case, it was a modified Vault security vest from which he had removed or taped every protruding gizmo, effectively earning an excellent yet discreet body armor…

Of course, he usually made sure he didn't need the vest.

Now, Mercury had two choices; take the armor off, sleep a little and poke around the factories in the morning or do things the other way around, sneak into the places right now and be sure he'd find whatever there was to find before his presence made any suspect paranoid.

He was tired and if he went now, he wouldn't be as effective as he should, but then his arrival in town did not go quite unnoticed and if he moved quick, he could begin investigating before the word spread too far.

He remembered a ghoul named Lynch who kept saying "Rest is a weapon as powerful as any tank or bombs." Guy never slept, but Mercury still tried to follow his advices every chances he got. So he settled on the nap, going to bed with his armor on.

0

0

0

Natalie was tired, her whole body was hurting, her legs were shaking from fear and she really needed to go take a piss, but that was all secondary to her main concern; the legion Decanus.

Her hands were tied behind her back and the man was now circling her like a shark, looking up the young woman like she was a piece of meat.

Three weeks had passed since Freddy had been killed, three weeks filled with pain, fear and living conditions she would never impose on any animal. 

Despite her efforts, she could barely remember the course of events that led her to this point; dressed in her underwear, hands bound in her back. Maybe it was some sort of anger at her childhood friend's death or a desire to a feeling of powerlessness she had tried to overcome, or maybe it was just fate.

Either way, the Decanus finally decided he could afford to get some one on one time with the new slave and ordered the two legionaries out of his tent.

He pointed to a sleeping bag, on the floor and ordered Natalie to sit down. She obeyed, looking at the floor and scratching the leathery rope with her thumb nails.

The Decanus undressed, still eyeing his new slave lustfully. He began by his pants, then his helmet and finally removed his shirt.

The purple piece of fabric fell on the floor, so did its owner, the thick leather belt normally holding his machete now wrapped tightly around his neck.

He clawed at it, then tried to punch his attacker, and even tried spinning on the spot, but was lifted off the floor by the frail girl, the leather band keeping him from calling for help.

The man was strong, but the young girl was even stronger, her thing frame feeling like a statue under him. The Decanus was soon seeing things that were not there, his wind pipe crushed and his brain slowly dying. Every attempt to draw a breath was met with a choked gurgle and low whistling sound.

It took almost five minutes for the large man to stop struggling, five minutes during which the half naked teenage girl held him in the air, unwavering, slowly choking him to death without a hint of emotion.

Once the man had passed out, Natalie removed a fake tooth from the back of her mouth and opened the plastic casing of the thing with her right thumb nail, cutting trough like a diamond cutter. She then poured the powder contained within in the man's throat and waited for the cyanide to take effect before dragging the corpse on the bed and finally screaming at the top of her lungs.

The two legionaries were quick to respond and both entered the tent to find their leader naked, with a leather strap wrapped around his neck and with a girl half his weight crying and cowering in the corner. The explanation was not exactly obvious, but it didn't take long for both men to conclude their Decanus had decided to try something different and suffered the consequences.

One of them took care of covering the corpse until someone figured what to do while the other stared at Natalie.

"Get out of here!" He snapped, "And if you tell anyone what happened, you'll regret it!" She ran out sobbing.

Once outside, Natalie went straight for the nearby stream, apparently to clean herself up, and dug up a small box from the sand, containing a small thermal SPRKL beacon and two Stealth Boy.

She wrapped both stealth devices around her wrists and activated one. She had a five kilometers walk trough the wasteland separating her from the extraction point and didn't really feel like stumbling on a legion patrol without weapons or armor as it would end one of two ways, both of which were quite unpleasant prospects.

She left her gaze wander to the slave pen, filled with other girls her age, some even younger. She had been terrified earlier, yet had been trained and augmented by the TIGRA, so she really couldn't imagine the feeling of terror and vulnerability these girls would feel. There was a time when such a thought would have made her run to the slave's rescue, fuck orders and fuck the Legion, but not anymore. She had completed her mission and was on her way for extraction. Playing hero would only get her and the girls killed. Cole was getting ready to wage war on the legion and only by setting the stage and evening the odd could she truly help not only the eight or so slaves in this small camp, but every single person the legion ever enslaved.

Freddy would have been proud of her, of the new Natalie. She was seeing the big picture now, working with the lesser evil to build a better tomorrow and living her life without him, no matter how strange it felt.

She was not stupid, however, she realized Talon Corps. Was by no mean a charity institution, but it was certainly better than the Legion or the Brotherhood of steel, so until she found the reincarnation of Gandhi or Jesus Christ, she'd stick with Captain Cole.


	32. Chapter Two: Bull, Bear, Vulture

**I was going to rewrite the whole story, tidy it up, remove some lose ends and add some flesh to the whole thing, but, you know what? If you've stuck with me for so long, I guess you don't much care about that, you just want to see what happens next, so consider the story so far a loose interpretation of events leading up to Talon Company's arrival in the Mojave, characters are the same and force projections as well, but characterization might change and some of your favourite Mercs might act out of character.**

**I do believe it is for the best and hope you will approve of the changes that were brought.**

**Before jumping into the thick of it, let's review Talon Corps' organization and chain of command, as well as my interpretation of the balance of strengths.**

**NCR Army:**

**NCR Trooper: Lightly armored, poorly trained and equipped with a semi-automatic M series rifle(If they're lucky), troopers are barely more than cannon fodders.**

**NCR Ranger: Scout, Sheriff, Commando and even Drill Instructors, Rangers are the hardest bastards the NCR has to offer, well armored, well equipped and extremely well trained, they make for formidable foes.**

**Heavy trooper: equipped with a salvaged and refurbished Power Armor, the Heavies make up for a low mobility with an overwhelming firepower and thick armor plates. Although their armor is far from being as performing as a real Power Armor, it requires no training to use.**

**First Recon: Sniper division; the best in the Mojave, bar none.**

**Caesar's Legion:**

**Legionaries (All damn sorts of them, they're all the same any-fucking-way) : Extremely well trained and disciplined, letting them get too close would be the last mistake you'd ever make. Good thing they can't think for themselves.**

**Brotherhood Of Steel Mojave Chapter:**

**Paladin: Trained just as much as the Rangers, equipped with T51b Power Armor that allows them to laugh off small arms fire, and high quality energy weapons capable of shredding all but the best armor to pieces, a single Paladin is capable of razing a small town. Just don't ask him to do it discreetly or to watch for friendly fire.**

**Talon Company:**

**Vultures : Highly trained, equipped with customized Combat Armors and armed with some of the best infantry weapons available; Talon Mercs are capable of handling anything: from hostage situation to all out warfare, nothing is too tough for these hardened vets, used to fighting ravening super-mutants and Brotherhood Paladins.**

**Commanding Officer: Captain Calico.**

**Primary Weapon: R91 Assault Rifle and variants.**

**Secondary Weapons: N99 10mm Pistol.**

**Squad Automatic Weapons: Type 98 Chinese Assault Rifle with C-mag and bipod. **

**Designated Marksman Rifle: Scoped/Suppressed R91.**

**Close Combat Weaponry: Combat Shotgun.**

**Heavy Weapons: Grenade Machinegun, Missile Launcher, Grenade Rifle.**

**Armor: Talon Combat Armor. Long Sleeved, gas mask, tactical helmet.**

**Badgers: The Badgers are specialized in urban warfare, have the best non-powered armor available and a training rivaling that of the Brotherhood. They are specialized in aggressive recon operations and extremely tough to kill, although their very limited number limits their usefulness.**

**Commanding Officer: Captain Reilly.**

**Primary Weapon: T-98 Assault Rifle and variants.**

**Secondary Weapons: N99 10mm Pistol, .44 Magnum.**

**Squad Automatic Weapons: Type 98 Chinese Assault Rifle with C-mag and bipod. **

**Designated Marksman Rifle: Scoped/Suppressed R91.**

**Close Combat Weaponry: Combat Shotgun, 10mm SMG.**

**Heavy Weapons: Grenade Machinegun, Missile Launcher, Grenade Rifle.**

**Armor: Rangers Combat Armor. Short Sleeved, hardened.**

**Lyon's Pride: the Pride used to be the most elite squad of the Brotherhood, now they act as base defense and Drill instructors, yet they still go out on operations when they need a little extra beer money, often changing the tides of a battle by their only presence.**

**Commanding Officer: Major Lyon.**

**Black Widows: Professional assassins, cyberneticaly augmented to be stronger, faster and smarter than an average human and equipped with Chinese Stealth Suits, hitmen are masters of disguise and information gathering, learning all there is to know about their target before moving in for the kill.**

**Commanding Officer: Lieutenant Mercury.**

**Armor: Black Ghost Armor**

**Bears: Equipped with T-45d Power Armors and armed with either a minigun, grenade machine gun, missile launcher or Fat Man nuke cannon, Bears are true walking tanks largely superior to their NCR counterparts on every aspects, yet they pale when compared to Brotherhood Paladin. Despite being less versatile than Vultures, Heavies still follow their squadmates around, packing enough ordinance to get them out of a tight spot, when needed. Most Bears are Brotherhood's Outcasts who integrated better with the rest of Talon Corps and, as such, are often supplemented by robotised units.**

**Commanding Officer: Colonel Casdin/Major Langhorn**

**Armor: T-45d, T-51b, Advanced Mk I.**

**Rhinos: Super-Mutants outfitted with upsized Combat Armors and personalized weapons, they act as cheap armored support. The most visible representative of the division, codename ZEUS, is outfitted with a unique Power Armor and uses a 30mm Auto-Cannon. **

**Commanding Officer: Leon Warner "ZEUS".**

**Legionnaires: Wasters, prisoners of war, criminals and other such misfits that failed to join any other division may still sign up with the Foreign Legion, where they receive low end gear and strategically insignificant postings until they acquire enough skill and experience to join the Corps. **

**Commanding Officer: Command Chain subject to changes.**

**Wolves: Capable of being deployed anywhere in the Mojave in under ten minutes, those ex-Enclave Special Forces were the best of the best and they still are now, although Bears are giving them a serious run for their money over the title, they remain THE most elite military outfit anywhere, surpassing even the Rangers. Beyond the training, they are equipped with the best Power Armor known to man and energy weapons that make the Brotherhood's look like pea shooters.**

**Commanding Officer: Captain Darling.**

**Armor: Advanced MkII, Tesla Armor, Hellfire Armor.**

**Decisions are taken by a committee, comprised of each division's highest ranking officer and presided by Special Warfare Director Jared Cole.**

**Comparison (Using troopers for model)**

**Trooper vs Legionary. 1:1 (One trooper vs one legionary would be a fair fight.)**

**Trooper vs Bear 5:1**

**Trooper vs Legionnaire 1:3**

**Trooper vs NCR Ranger 20:1 (30:1 if Ranger is a Vet.)**

**Trooper vs Paladin 20:1**

**Trooper vs Vultures 5:1**

**Trooper vs Badgers 20:1**

**Trooper vs Lyon's Pride 40:1**

**Trooper vs Black Widow 6:1 (If they see him coming)**

**Trooper vs Bears 5:1**

**Trooper vs Wolves - N\A (Troopers flee upon seeing Wolves on the scene.)**

Searchlight airport has everything we can need to settle down; it's fenced in, it has fuel reserves, only one, easily defendable entrance, a massive area to set up in and planes we can actually refit and use for recon. Paradise, but a lot of the boys are unhappy with my decision to settle down and gut the airships for parts, they'd like to just keep on flying forever…

Admittedly, being mobile has its perks and the tow is going to stay operational, but the other ships require helium to fly and we're out of metal and acid to produce it, so Searchlight is as far as it gets.

I sent scouts to the nearby town before we touched down, but the place is irradiated worse than the white house, which is another perk for us, radiations will keep the locals from stumbling on us before we're all set.

Hard to believe we're not yet, just looking at the control tower, heavily reinforced with snipers standing guard, ready to relay targeting data down to our howitzers , or the VB-02 refueling station at the eastern edge of the runway, or just the bunch of recruits running drills on said runway, all clad in full combat armor and sweating their asses off like we're going to shoot them at the first sign of weakness…

I think some of my drill instructors actually do tell recruits they'll be shot if they fail, because I swear drop off rates were never this low.

"Sure went a long way from the damned capitol building." Calico scoffs, to the right. We both stand on top of the tower, leaning on the railing.

"How are you getting used to being the good guys?" I scoff, looking at a bunch of kids down by the tarmac, they're playing football or maybe just smashing in one another.

Believe it or not, but one of the kids is Calico's; five years old little scrapper, no clue who the father was.

She pushes herself off the railing, flakes of rust coming off at the same time, "By drinking baby tears every morning with my coffee."

"Geez, woman, we have soja milk, you know?"

She performs a flawless eyeroll and get in the tower.

Calico's back in charge now, taking care of day to day operations and all that, while I get the exciting parts, like writing our constitution, bill of rights, leading special task groups, handling diplomacy and, if there's time, piss off the Outcasts.

I shit you not, the board decided since we had kids, an economy, laws and a government, we should be a fully-fledged nation, and they dumped all the paperwork on my lap.

Way I do it is very simple; you work for us for three years, you become a citizen, you get a place to live, a steady job, food on your table and some spending money on the side, so maybe you don't get to pick who's in charge, so what? Democracy didn't work so great for the old owners of the place, I run this thing military, we'll see what comes out of it.

So, basically, citizens of the… Talon Company nation? Whatever they want to call it, they get the same privileges as a soldier of the old U.S. Army, with a few added extras, like no rent, free food and the best living conditions we can afford at the time.

There are worst deals.

But that's old news, it's all written already, I'm up here thinking about the speech I'll be making on the radio once Casdin's boys are done with the transmitter.

It's written down and all, I'm just trying to get used to the melodramatic stuff in it...

_As you butted heads over a petty slab of concrete, each kill you scored a testament to our dominance, we rose from the ashes of men infinitely your betters. We do not seek glory, honour or justice, we seek wealth and you will give it to us, not because we demand it, but because you require it, all of you, looking for the edge that will strike down your foes. _

_We are that edge._

_Yesterday we hid in the shadows, today, we stand in broad daylight, our flag floats over every battlefield. Seek it out and pay the toll_ _before your enemy does._

_Talon Corporation is here and there is no ignoring us._


	33. Birds In A Cage

**Kane: Thanks man! Appreciate it!**

**aghhh: What ending?**

* * *

General Oliver Lee, or Lee Oliver, I don't know, TIGRA has yet to come up with a standardized report format... In any event, Lee's not happy to see my boys swoop in and Lanius, his Legion opposite, was slightly resistant to our presence... That is to say, he had the nearest Talon Company (the board can call it Talon Corps all they want, it'll always be Talon Company to me) outpost burned to the ground and the men manning it locked up.

Let's not talk about Robert House, he's Casdin's problem.

I sent Calico to handle Lee, Lanius is mine.

Normally, I'd just rip him a new one and get my guys out of there, but Caesar offered peace talks and the board wants me to take him up on it.

They even asked me to use the proper Latin pronunciations like 'Ah-way' and 'Kai-Sar'...

The Vertibird touches down in the middle of an arena, just in front of the emperor's tent. I can't see much, the VB-02/k is a flying tank, unlike the VB-02/c, who actually has lateral doors instead of hatches.

I do notice an alarming number of Legionaries, but I've got Darling's Wolves backing me up and this Vertibird packs enough firepower to level this camp twice.

Lanius and I meet halfway between the hatch and arena gate, my skull balaclava and his Mars helmet giving this meeting a Halloween-ish feeling.

"You are brave to come here yourself, Coal Man..." His voice is reminiscent of a flamethrower, if that's even possible. Me, I sound like a guy, a pissed off guy with the best infantry training you can get.

"No, I'm not, where are my men."

"All things in due time," he tells me, apparently about to go on a tangent, "first you must see Caesar ..."

"Fuck him, either I see my boys are alright or I shoot the place up until I find them." First Airborne spreads out across the arena, two teams, and set to put the fear of god in whatever legionary looked about to flank me. They're outnumbered thirty to eight, but in a pinch, no one here doubts they'll come through all right.

"This would be a serious mistake, Colonel, your _men_ will be executed ins..."

Yeah, yeah, I know the drill, "Take a good long look at us," McKiney waves, his scoped laser rifle centered on the Legate's chest, "you honestly think we didn't plan for that? What makes you think I even care if they live or die? I'm a Mercenary, I trade lives for money for Christ's sake!" Of course it's a bluff, each of my men is worth more to me than any amount of caps... It's complicated.

But why mention Christ in this conversation? I haven't suddenly found god or something; I just hope he'll go all zealot on me so I can cap his ass. I'm still the boss, make no mistake, but I've got to at least look like I abide the board's decisions for this society to hold up.

"I will have my men show yours to the pen, but you must see Caesar." Odd, he's pretty cooperative for a murdering, slavering bastard...

Shit, isn't that the way Morgan saw me, back in the days? I've treated the legion like shit so far, because of the way they treat slaves and stuff, but nobody is truly evil, I know that better than anyone, so let's cut the poor bastards some slack.

So we've got a deal. Darling and Dexter will check on our captured troops while I have tea with that other fuckwit up in that tent.

They search me for weapons, the dumb bastards, and only find about half the artillery I'm hauling around.

"Anything else?" The Praetorian asks, struggling to keep a grip on two handguns, an assault rifle, a combat knife, two switchblades, five grenades and a sawed off shotgun.

"Of course there's more," maybe laughing in his face isn't very diplomatic, "you can't even begin to conceive how many weapons I'm carrying."

Still, he lets me in the tent and I get my first look at the bald head that brought so many rock banging tribes in line.

The contrast between me and Lanius was one thing, with Caesar, it's another entirely; I'm thirty, or so I suppose, he's in his late fifties, I work out just as much as any of my boys, he has a few superfluous pounds hanging over his belt, I wear top of the line combat gear, he's wearing a skirt... Then again, that's the difference between Fascism and Communism, I am a cog in the workings of Talon Company, he's the will of the Legion.

If you're not all that great with political systems, we're the communists, the left wing, and they are the fascists, complete opposite, or so Darling told me on the flight here, which doesn't make much sense to me, because I always thought being extreme right meant capitalism, which a mercenary group embodies quite well, at which point Darling just mumbled something about me being the only man in history to fuck with political science that much.

Well, let's see how the two hands get along.

"Colonel Cole." The old man finally greets, once I'm about four feet from his throne.

"Kai-sar." If he notices my proper Latin, he doesn't show it. "We seem to have a problem here." There's nowhere for me to sit or lean or anything while he's all comfy on his seat. The oldest trick in the book.

You think that shit works with me, old fuck? Think again. Arms folded in my back, helmet and balaclava now hanging from my belt, replaced by mirror sunglasses, I switch to Drill Instructor mode and review his personal guard with that constant sneer Vargas masters so well.

He doesn't move from his throne, but his eyes follow me around like a bull about to charge, "Yes, it would appear that way," that tone, behind the words, I know all too well; scholar, man was Brotherhood raised or something, that would explain a lot, "you see, the Legion does not take well to profiteering or corruption, and your corporation embodies both..."

"None of your guards carries a gun." Not a question, not even an affirmation, I speak it as an insult. Drill Instructor, remember?

"Quite observant of you," he scoffs, no trace of humour to be found in those grey eyes, "but could we stay on topic?"

He hears it just as I do and I swear his face grow crimson, anger or shame, I don't know. He's on his turf, not even neutral ground, and just asked _me_ permission to move on with the discussion.

"But we are on topic, your man at the door left me with enough ordnance to kill you, the two at the door and the dog in the far corner before any sort of alarm can be given. With you dead and my escape cleared, I could easily pin down the rest and get out."

It's not bragging, any trained killer could do it, I'm just pointing out the flaws of his perfect army.

"Is this a threat?" I thought he'd be smarter.

"I don't do threats, Caesar, if you're going to kill someone, do it, don't talk about it, no, I was merely offering some advices."

It's an art, taking control of a conversation, one I spent years mastering after our failed contact with the Midwest Brotherhood. I'm in control now; I established my dominance when it comes to warfare and manage to shit all over his lawn in front of the guards, he can still have me executed on a moment's notice, but we're now speaking the same language.

He wants to integrate us to the Legion, I tell him to fuck off, I'm not turning half my fighting force into breeding stock.

Of course, being a scholar and all, he feels the need to tell me that women are valuable in this thinly populated world, for obvious reasons.

I prefer people to have as many kids as they want and raise them properly instead of pumping out units like an assembly line, quality over quantity, I suppose.

"The deal is simple," I can't believe I need to spell it out, "you can rent our services for any operation that does not conflict with one of our current contract, like take a fort or bomb a town, we don't care, so long as your money's good..." Any money's good.

And off we go again as he explains to me how my society is doomed in advance. His point is pretty fucking valid, come to think of it:

Everyone out there is an asshole, either stuck up and self righteous or self centred, but we pride ourselves for our professionalism as a private army and we take our contracts from them, so we're stuck with everyone wanting us dead in the end, but can't just take over because we need our incomes to flow in from somewhere...

It was there, in my face all along, really, ever since I started writing down laws and shit. Talon Corporation just isn't working out, we're an army, a real, functional one, without a country...

"A very good point." Darling just reported in, two of the women are missing, three more were raped, one of them was tortured, "This was an enlightening conversation."

When I turn to leave, two Praetorians get in my way, both a good head taller than I am. Darling is reporting activity out there as well.

Caesar thinks he's in control again, it shows in his voice, "I'm afraid I can't let you leave here, mister Cole, you..."

"You sad suicidal fucktard,"This, this is exactly how I hoped things would turn out, "I'm not the one that has nowhere to run..."

Butterfly knife in the right hand, 9mm handgun in the left, I stretch a little and give Darling green light to engage. Something shifts behind me a lumbering shape moving in a blur.

This won't be a remake of Kodiak's office; the Praetorian's hook grazes my hairs as I spin on the spot, gutting the dumb bastard horizontally before putting a round in his buddy's face.

Scratch two, eight left. Unfair? I have a fucking gun!

Three fall because they are brain washed morons, now their brain needs to be washed off the carpet, so that's five on one now.

Fuck the gun, they're at knife range now... The thing actually goes off hitting the floor and spins off in a corner of the tent. No time to worry about that; there's a ballistic fist in collision course with my face.

It gets slapped and slashed off course by a jab of my knife and the elbow is shattered when I ram my whole body into it while holding the arm twisted and extended with the knife. The next guy almost lands a punch, but I duck just in time, what they call a near miss in aviation, which is fucking stupid because that's a near hit, he nearly got me, my uppercut in the man's jaw is a near miss, I nearly missed, but didn't and now he's spitting out tooth in my face.

I'd slash his throat open, but the butterfly knife stayed in that poor bastard's wrist...

Good thing the Legion is helpful as always, I just move my head aside a little and his pal's rescue attempt burst the guy's face like a melon... Not only that, but the offered arm is perfectly positioned for a shoulder throw; I just step under his centre of mass, grap his elbow and spin him overhead.

of course, that gives another guy a clean shot at my back, which he takes, sending me, along with the three legionaries, to sprawl on the carpet. The thing is drenched with brain matter and, you know what? Fuck this, I don't have to put up with those assholes, I'm the CEO of a merc corporation!

"Fire support on my position."

There's a convenient gap overhead, seems to be meant that way, for some reason, and the gunship gets a very good shot at anything purple.

Ever seen what twin linked Gatling lasers can do to a man wearing only sport equipment? Just about the same as it does anyone else; turns him into dust.

If you ask me, the fact Caesar just got vaporized by a gunship pilot on his first combat sortie and with no clue of who he just killed makes it almost poetic...

I savour the irony for a few seconds, then a plasma grenade chews away a good chunk of fabric on the tent's flank, revealing the battle that goes on down in the arena; Wolves are grouped in a circle, all facing outward in a texbook crouch firing stance, and keeping the barbarians at bay with an almost biblical amount of heat.

Fuck I love my job.


End file.
